Wouldn't You Know It
by maki0202
Summary: Distance sure makes the heart grow fonder. Liz didn't realize she loved Donald Ressler, until he left for an undercover operation for six months. And already her heart is making some questionable decisions.
1. Chapter 1

Wouldn't You Know It

**A/N: I know a new story is the last thing I need, I mean, I have like 3 stories I need to finish. But this idea crept up on me, and I just had to get it out of me. The premise is, what if Lizzie fell in love with Don first? Hope you enjoy this little story! **

. . . . . . .

Chapter 1

"Where is he? Where did you send him?"

"Who?"

"You know very well who I'm talking about. I'm in no mood to play games, Red."

Liz spoke quickly and furiously as soon as she got into Reddington's waiting car. She didn't give a damn about greetings and pleasantries, and although she had expected him to play coy, it was nonetheless irritating as hell. It didn't help that her day at work was…crappy, for lack of better word, and she was feeling absolutely intolerant of anything outside of straight-forward answers to her questions. And faster, the better.

"How does Italian sound tonight? I've been meaning to take you to Spago's, their red wine fettucini is to die for." Reddington signaled to Dembe, and soon enough the car was moving, presumably on its way to Spago's.

"Where is Ressler? Please, I need to know." Liz softened her approach, perhaps giving into the heart's desperation that was willing to beg, if she needed to.

"He didn't tell you? He didn't tell you where he was going?"

"No."

Liz briefly looked out the window, trying her might to mask the tinge of disappointment that swelled up in her heart. Damn him. Damn that man. Ressler should've told her, something, anything. They are partners, after all, and there are certain expectations, certain unspoken responsibilities toward one another. He should've at least told her that he would be gone for few days; she should be privy to that. He owed her that much, after all that they've been through.

But, no, she got nothing from him. When he didn't show up to work that day, Liz had to ask Cooper about Ressler's whereabouts, and all he could tell her was that Ressler was placed in an undercover operation for the next two weeks. And when she asked him if it had anything to do with Reddington, Cooper walked away without a word.

"Good. I knew I could trust him to keep this quiet." A small, satisfied smile appeared on Reddington's face, "I expected him to tell you, at least. But, I've got to give him credit where it's due. One thing about Donald, the FBI man follows his orders."

"I knew you were involved with this. Is Cooper in it, too? How much does he know?"

"Cooper? He knows everything, that was the only way he would commission Donald for this operation."

"OK, fine. Forget the ranks and formalities. What did you put him up to do? Where is he?" Liz was becoming more agitated and angry, for what reason she couldn't quite explain, even to herself. If Cooper commissioned it, it's understood that the operation was meticulously analyzed and that there was no way Ressler would be placed in an uncontrolled situation. But, regardless of all that, she just needed to know...where the heck he was.

"Lizzie…don't worry about Donald. He'd be fine."

"Just tell me where he is."

"I can't do that." Reddington kept his eyes resolutely on hers, and she knew that no matter how loud she hollered, he wasn't about to budge. But she had to keep hollering, with all the tremors and dread filling up in her heart, she couldn't give up. And she didn't care how desperate she appeared before Reddington…or what thoughts crossed his mind as she recklessly allowed herself be vulnerable for Ressler. She didn't care, and she wasn't going to pretend any of it.

"I need to know where he is, in case he needs…my help."

"Lizzie, let me assure you, Donald does not need your help."

"Is he on his own in this mission?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"No back-up?"

"No."

"Red…what is this about? You sent him, by himself…for what operation? And why are you keeping this from me?"

And there it was. Reddington was doing that thing that annoyed her the most; he was studying her. His steely eyes were kept upon her face, and every flicker and wrinkle were duly processed into his mind, all the while his lips were twisted into a mysterious smile. Liz was all too familiar with this face of his, the very mug she wanted to punch sometimes.

"Lizzie, I'm not in the position to tell you anything about this operation. It is…how shall I say…a rather delicate situation, and it is best that it's kept quiet, even from you. But, again, rest assured, Donald is going to be fine."

"Are you serious..."

"But what I find more interesting is how you are so…worked up over this. It is quite uncharacteristic of you."

"Well…he is my partner. I'm just looking out for him."

"Yes, partners, of course. But, look at this situation as if you were given individual field work. Sometimes that happens, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but…as a partner, I feel that…I should at least be debriefed of his cases…and the progress of his field work."

"Because you care for him, as a partner."

"Yes, of course, I care for him as a partner. I care very much if something happened to him. I'd care very much if he died!"

Liz clumsily pressed several buttons on the door handle, before finding one that opened the window. With the window opened a jar, she breathed in the cool, fresh air that washed over her with prickly tickles. Everything felt stifling hot at the moment, and she felt herself suffocating with the wild beatings of her heart. The hung air of the encased space, the unnerving eyes of Reddington, the frustration of the conversation that went nowhere…and even the vision of Ressler at his worst moment without her…everything at this present moment seemed like the stuff of nightmares.

"Lizzie, he'd only be gone for two weeks. He'll be back before you know it."

"A lot can happen in those two weeks. Red…you think you know him, but…Ressler can be such a hothead. He has this stupid, "go down in all glory" mentality sometimes…and he's bound to jump into action without thinking about it."

"I know Donald better than you think."

"Red, he needs…back-up."

"You mean, he needs…you."

She shifted her body to face Reddington, "Just…promise me of one thing. If anything happens to Ressler, you have to contact me. This is a personal request, and if you cared for me at all, you'd promise me that. Red, please…I understand that this is an important mission. But if Ressler is in any danger…you have to contact me."

"He means that much to you?"

"Yes."

She responded without a pause, and by the faint rising of his eyebrow, Liz was certain that Reddington was rampant in reading into just about everything she's said. But she didn't care what he thought. She didn't care what connections and suppositions he was making in his busy mind. All she wanted to know, all she cared about at that moment, was Reddington relinquishing to her request, and she held her breath in anxious anticipation.

"Lizzie, if it means that much to you…of course."

. . . . . . .

Reddington was wrong about the two weeks going by quickly. Every hour of everyday seemed to drag on without relief in sight, and her mind was helplessly muddled and distracted with thoughts of Ressler. She wouldn't admit to anyone, but she was worried sick about him, and she wanted him back, sitting on that chair of his, facing her desk in their shared office. She wanted to see that smirk, of haughty impatience, when he's had enough of uncooperative witnesses. She wanted to see that perpetual frown above his eyebrows, the ones that settled so easily when he was remotely distrusting of situations. But what she missed most of all, was what peeked from underbeneath his hardened surface, that of his warmth, protectiveness, loyalty, and…tenderness. She missed him, and damn, why was this so hard?

During the two weeks, Liz had not heard anything about Ressler from both Reddington and Cooper. Cooper was surprisingly terse about his respected agent, and Liz had neither the fortitude nor tenacity to press him any further. She didn't find much success with Reddington either, but she breathed in a bit of relief in knowing that he had promised her if anything would happen to Ressler, she would be the first to know. All Liz had to do was abide her time, and hope that Ressler would return, safe and sound.

The two weeks had finally gone by, but there was still no sign of Ressler. Liz waited one more day for him to show up at the black site, but to no avail, he was dreadfully absent. She considered calling Reddington, but at that point, she definitely was not in the mood to hear his coy responses. So she did what was most unexpected for her to do: march up to Cooper's office and speak to the man responsible.

"Sir."

"Agent Keen, what can I help you with?"

"I would like to inquire about…Agent Ressler. I understand his undercover operation was for the duration of two weeks. Sir, it's been two weeks and two days."

"Yes?"

"As his partner, I would like to be informed whether it is of concern regarding the delay of his return."

Cooper finally lifted his eyes toward Liz from the thick file before him on the desk. She could tell he was mystified at her request, perhaps thinking she was not privy to such bureau business. But with a slight nod, Cooper soon relinquished with a statement that wanted no questions.

"Agent Ressler's mission has been extended to six months."


	2. Chapter 2

Wouldn't You Know It

Chapter 2

"Sir."

"Agent Keen, this is not up for discussion."

"I understand that, sir. But if I could just have a moment."

Liz had not budged from the center of his office, even though Assistant Director Harold Cooper had eyed the door for her benefit, as well as returned his attention back to the file on his desk. His wanting of her absence was implicit without a doubt, and judging from the unsightly thick pile of files upon his desk, he was presumably in no mood to waste time. But Liz was not done with him, and at that moment she was more than willing to push and test him if needed.

"Sir…"

"What is it, Agent Keen? And make it quick." Even though slight, Liz detected his deep sigh, as well as all the communicated irritation and impatience that inextricably came with it. She had underestimated him; Cooper isn't one to be pushed easily, especially if he was already aware of the opponent's intentions.

"I would like to assist Agent Ressler, as his back-up."

"He is not in the need of a back-up."

"Sir, I feel that it is a bit…reckless that Agent Ressler is sent to the field alone, without..."

"If he needs back-up, it isn't going to be from you, Agent Keen."

Liz was taken aback by his statement, and his tone that was definitive and certain as hell. She felt as though her next breath was knocked out of her, and as she fought to return to some shred of coherence, Cooper took the sight of her silence as a nod to return to his work. She had to say something, anything.

"Sir, is that statement a reference to my performance as an agent? If that's the case…"

"No, Agent Keen. It's the nature of the mission, which I am not in liberty of discussing. It is classified."

"It's just protocol…to have back-up."

"Agent Ressler has informed me that he is not in a need of a back-up. Especially by a female agent."

Liz was again taken aback by Cooper's statements. He had spoken to Ressler, and it sounded to be quite recent. "Sir, you have spoken to him?"

"Just this morning."

"And…"

"And what, Agent Keen?"

And just say everything he's said, every word, and don't you dare leave anything out. "What is the progress of his mission, sir?"

Cooper simply smiled at her direction, "That is classified information."

"Yes, sir."

She knew that Cooper was not going to say anything else, and she was done fighting it. She felt utterly exhausted, as if it was her mind and will that were tested. And she was certain Cooper can hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat, if she could manage to contain it in her chest.

"Agent Keen." Cooper called her as she turned toward the door, "I understand that you're concerned for his safety, as he is your partner. I could only tell you that…Agent Ressler is the right man for this mission. He has performed to our expectations, and you have nothing to be…concerned about."

"Thank you, sir."

"And this is the last time we'll be discussing this case."

"Yes, of course."

. . . . . . .

"Six months? Six months! Are you kidding me?"

It was always easier to talk to Reddington, as all the pretense and guise – heck, even pleasantries and manners – simply dissolved with not a second thought. With Reddington, she can yell and scream all she wanted, all that she felt like. She even eyed some objects to throw, if he didn't start giving her some answers.

"Lizzie…"

"Did you know? Did you know that Ressler will be gone for that long?"

"It was two weeks, at first. But he needs more time."

"And this…according to whom? Did Ressler tell you that himself? Oh, don't tell me…don't you dare tell me…"

She had gone straight to Reddington's new abode after work, and now she was huffing and pacing in the great hallway of the massive house, of which she couldn't care less about how he ended up there to begin with. Even Dembe stayed out of her way, and elected to sit on the stool by the kitchen.

"You need to calm down, Elizabeth."

Sometimes when Reddington called her "Elizabeth", she could've sworn he sounded just like her father. "Don't tell me to calm down."

"Elizabeth…"

"Did you talk to Ressler? Did he call you?"

"Yes, he did."

"Great…he called you, he called Cooper. Just about everyone got a call from him, except me. He couldn't even drop me a note saying he's alive?"

"He has me to do that."

"Red, I swear…" Liz shot him a look of frozen disdain, "What did he say? What did he say to you?"

"He said he needs six more months."

"Red…I'm not in the mood to…" She was not in the mood to deal with Reddington being…Reddington. "Is he alright?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't need back-up?"

"No."

"Why does he need six more months?"

Reddington held his tongue, at much to her disappointment. What she didn't care for was the coy smile that crept up on his face, as if he was too smart to be taken in this game. Damn him.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about this mission, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. And I can't."

With a relinquished sigh, Liz plopped down on the plush sofa next to Reddington. She watched the tiny embers of fire escaping from the fire place, and in the stillness of the crackling heat, she felt the sooth and the calm permeate in her mind. If anything, knowing Ressler was alright may be enough for her troubled heart.

"I'm sorry…for being insufferable, I know. I just…wish he had back-up. I keep thinking he's out there, alone…most likely in a dangerous situation, with no one to watch his back."

"I gather he is indeed in a dangerous situation. But Donald can handle it. He sounded confident, at least."

"Well, you know…Ressler thinks he can handle anything. He'd be the last person to call for help."

"Perhaps."

They watched the fire together in a brief moment of silence. There was something about live fire that calmed, and entertained, the weary spirits. "Red, your promise still stands. I'm holding you to that."

"What promise?"

"If anything happens to Ressler, you have to tell me."

"Oh, that. Yes, of course."

"And just out of curiosity…you have Ressler's contact number, am I correct? In case some plans change on our end, and needs to be communicated."

"No, I don't." Reddington got up to throw in a log of wood into the fire place, "For safety reasons, we don't have a number to contact him. It's been Ressler who contacted us, if need be."

"What? So, there's no way you can call him? No number…nothing?"

"Nope. And don't even think about bothering Cooper about it. He doesn't, either."

"Basically, the only way to communicate with Ressler is when he calls you?"

"Basically."

"So, I'm thinking he's not carrying a phone. That means, he's calling you from a pay phone, perhaps?"

"It sounds like it."

. . . . . . .

It's been two months since her talk with Cooper, and she had not heard one word about Ressler, as expected. Even Aram pulled her aside several times and had asked her if she knew anything about her partner's whereabouts. The silence of the Assistant Director was confounding, if not disturbing, and she could never get used to Ressler's absence at the black site. She missed him, and not as a partner, or anything trite like that. She missed him, like how he always walked a half-step behind her, as if he was…watching over her. She missed him, like how he understood her so easily, and not just words, but every nod, a slight of hand, and gaze of an eye. Everything flowed so easily, so effortlessly, between them that she sometimes marveled how it became to be so.

She missed him, as the only man she trusted in her life, as the only man she deemed to be honorable and noble. She winced at the memory of Tom, and the hopeless mire of deceit she fell into. But after Tom's death, Ressler was there, in his silent presence and loyalty that assured her that she was now safe and protected. She missed him, as whenever she looked at him, she somehow felt hopeful, that she can start her life all over again. She felt as though Tom took away her innocence, everything that was lively and guileless. After Tom, she thought she had nothing left. But when she looked at Ressler, she couldn't deny it, or explain why, she felt this fresh rush of hope, of her heart beating again, of her heart…feeling again. And even a dim possibility of anything happening to him was...unthinkable, unbearable.

Reddington had not said a word about Ressler either, but he was easier to probe and bother. And Liz knew he would never lie to her, so she believed him when he told her Ressler had not contacted him. It drove her absolutely crazy that these two men would be so completely unaffected at having heard nothing from Ressler for the whole two months. It was incomprehensible.

It's been nearly three months when at last, Reddington brought up the subject. And of course, it was at the end of the evening when Liz was getting out of the car in front of her apartment.

"Lizzie, just to let you know…Donald called earlier today."

"What? What did he say? How is he?"

"Don't be alarmed, he's fine. He called to report that the mission is going smoothly. That's all."

"And you're telling me this, now? Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Damn it, Red…" She couldn't help but to shove him on his chest. She wasn't going to hide her anger, no way.

"Lizzie, he's fine. There's nothing much to tell. I didn't want to alarm you."

"Did he say anything else? Is he in danger? Does he need anything?"

"No, no, and no. For the last time, he's fine."

Still seething in anger at not having been told earlier, Liz got out of the car and slammed the door shut without the irritating pleasantries. She was in no mood to speak to Reddington any further, and perhaps she was even angry at Ressler, for what reasons she herself couldn't explain. Damn it, she got that this is an undercover operation, but…Ressler could've called her. Yes, he could've.

At the foot of her apartment building, just as Reddington's car roared out of sight, Liz took out of her cell phone and called her beloved techie. It was crazy, but she had to do it. She might regret it, and this may be the worst thing she could do to her career, but her heart just couldn't help it.

. . . . . . .

"Agent Keen, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Aram. Everything's fine, nothing to worry about. I just need a big favor from you."

"Sure, anything."

Liz had called Aram, and asked him to meet her back at the black site. After all, that's where all the equipments were located, and thankfully, the place was nearly deserted at this late hour.

"Aram, I need you to download all the data from this phone SIM card."

"Sure, anything specific you're looking for?"

"I'm not sure yet. Possibly a call from a pay phone number."

"That's not a problem. It'll take time, though, as I have to cross-reference all the numbers to the public phone database."

"Sure…thanks, Aram. I owe you, once again."

Aram took the SIM card from her hand, and plugged it into a small device that was hooked up to his laptop. After typing furiously for few moments, Aram sank back into his chair with an air of satisfied accomplishment.

"There, now the database is being cross-referenced. Any number that is from a pay phone should come up."

"Great…thanks, Aram."

"Agent Keen, if I may ask. I mean, I can't help to wonder, since you called me so late, and you seem…pretty urgent about it. Whose…whose phone is this, anyway?"

"It's Raymond Reddington's." She wasn't about to lie to him. Plus Aram was bound to figure it out sooner or later, if he hasn't already.

"That's…that's what I figured. Oh, he's not going to like that you took…his phone."

"Don't worry…I'll leave your name out of it." He was afraid of Reddington; that much was obvious. Aram may be her silent conspirator, but she was the criminal, and Reddington may have already figured out the keeper of his pilfered cell phone. But...she couldn't deal with that, not right now. She didn't even want to think about Reddington.

"And what is it you're looking for? Who might be calling from a pay phone?"

"That…remains to be seen."

The full green bar on the computer screen alerted that the cross-reference had completed. Aram scrutinized the screen and turned to Liz, "There are approximately fifty calls from various pay phones. He sure gets a lot of untraceable calls, I mean…Mr. Reddington is in the business…of…"

"Aram, any calls from today? Yesterday, even?" Liz was not feeling particularly patient at the moment, especially at Aram's usual ramblings.

He nodded, "Yes…there was one call earlier today."

"Where? Where is the call from?"

"It looks like…a pay phone in Philadelphia…in the neighborhood of Bridesburg."

"What time?"

"It looks to be early morning, close to five o'clock."

"Do you know the exact location of the pay phone?"

"Yes, it's in the cross section of…"

"Can you pull up the visuals? Street cameras? Anything?"

"Sure, I can try." Aram then switched to the main computer, and started his furious typing once again. Liz could only watch him in breathless anticipation, and already her heart was beating a thousand a minute. If she could just get a look at him…just a look…that was all she needed.

"So, you're looking for the culprit…I mean, who made the call, correct?" Aram's voice awakened Liz from her slight stupor.

"Yes."

Aram returned to the computer screen, and motioned Liz to come closer, "I think I have it, finally. It's bit grainy, and it's not the ideal time of the day for a clear shot, but it's the best I could do. I'll play the video for the ten minute duration of the call."

"Sounds good, Aram."

Liz and Aram watched the rather hazy grey film of the surroundings, still dark from the lingering night. The pay phone was slightly off-view to the side, and at the moment, not a soul stirred in sight. But Liz kept her eyes glued upon the spot, waiting and hoping, ignoring the cramping of her lungs that needed a heap of air breathed in.

Then in an instant, a ghost appeared. He was faint and grey, and appeared from the street on the other end of the pay phone. He was wearing a dark jacket with the collars up, and he walked gingerly and carefully. He reached the pay phone, and picked up the receiver, and talked for less than thirty seconds. He then placed the receiver back onto the phone, and gazed at the other end of the street, with his face toward the camera.

"Freeze that frame." Liz snapped at Aram, who jumped at her unexpected barking. "Can you zoom in?"

Aram zoomed in on the face, and Liz couldn't believe it. That face was all too familiar to her, no matter how grainy and blurry it was. But it took Aram a few more seconds, but soon enough, he grabbed her arm in a slow recognition.

"Is that…is that Agent Ressler?"

. . . . . . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading this little story!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 3**

"_Lizzie, I believe you have my phone."_

"_I do. Red…"_

"_I should've known when you shoved me, that was criminal philandering 101. Kudos to you for knowing I keep my phone in my breast pocket. I'm faintly impressed."_

"_Red, I'm…"_

"_I could hazard a guess as to why you took it. Are you planning on returning it?"_

"_Yes, as soon as I get back."_

What she wasn't going to tell Reddington was that he had called her just as she boarded the plane, headed to Philadelphia. It's been a whirlwind of a morning as she had barely any time to take a shower and pack some necessities. She had spent just about all night at the black site with Aram, who had tracked down Ressler using every camera in the area. And they had done it. Ressler was staying at a small run-down motel, at the outskirts of the Bridesburg borough.

"_Get back from where? Lizzie, where are you going?"_

"_I'm…going to Philadelphia."_

There was silence from his end, and Liz could only guess that he may have thrown his phone across the room, in fuming anger.

"_Red…I gotta hang up, we're taking off soon."_

"_Lizzie, this is not recommended. This is a bad idea."_

"_I almost agree with you, Red. But…I just have to see if he's alright. I'll be back tomorrow."_

"_Lizzie, I must ask you…"_

"_Bye, Red."_

She hung up quickly before he could protest any further. She just needed to see Ressler, that was all. Never mind the earful she'll get from Cooper…oh hell, he may even writer her up. But none of that mattered, as it very well should under normal circumstances, and Cooper was the furthest thing on her mind at the moment. With the grumbling shake of the air plane engine, and the rolling of the wheels toward the eastward sun, all Liz cared about was seeing Ressler.

. . . . . . .

Liz had rented a car to drive to Bridesburg, which was a good two hour drive from Philadephia Airport. She knew she had to proceed with utmost caution, as Ressler was deep in undercover, and she figured to a great extent that she had to be invisible. She decided to pay him a visit late at night, during the dark and quiet hours, so she rented a room at the airport hotel to rest until then.

It was nearly midnight when she reached the run-down motel at the end of the Trevelyan Street. Under the flickering street lamp above the motel, there was no other soul in sight as the muggy heat of the mid-summer rolled across the barren field yonder. She parked her car under the great oak tree about half a block away, and walked nimbly on the loose gravel spread haphazardly on the sidewalk. Somewhere beyond an owl was calling, and it sounded like only the black crows were up for answering him back. She wiped the beads of sweat that formed upon her forehead, cursing at the heat that only made this situation entirely more suffocating.

She did a quick scan of the motel when she arrived. There was not a sound heard, and its calm was becoming alarmingly eerie. She spotted room 2A, and with a big gulp of determination, she walked toward the door. Through the small window at its side, she detected a faint light emanating from within, and without a moment's loss, she knocked on the door three times.

The door did not budge, and Liz did a quick scan again over the entire motel surroundings. Only a lone black cat appeared from nowhere, and just three rooms had light seeping from the windows. She was about to knock again when the door opened tiny ajar.

"What the hell…"

"Ress…"

He quickly and rather forcibly grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room before she could utter his entire name. And once inside, he let go of her arm, or rather spewed it out of his grasp, as if in anger he just couldn't help it.

"Liz, what the….what the HELL are you doing here?"

"Ressler…" All of the words swirling in her mind suddenly escaped her faculties as she took a good look at the man before her. She was taken aback, not by his angry tone in the least, but by the stark change of his appearance. Ressler's rigid blond hair had now grown quite long, and it flowed tussled and unkempt, and those few strands he couldn't tuck behind his ears fell teasingly upon his eyes. His jaw sported, not a 5 o'clock shadow…but more like an 8 o'clock shadow, in all of its stubby glory. And peeking from underneath his thin white t-shirt, on his right upper arm was…

"Is that a tattoo?" She lifted his shirt sleeve to take a better look, but he flinched away abruptly.

"Yes…I mean, no, it's not…what the hell are you doing here, Liz?"

"I came to see if you needed…back-up." She eyed the room around her, which contained the barest of essentials. A bed, a night stand, a small table, and a tiny nook of a kitchen. The room was as exactly as she imagined it to be from studying the outside appearance: dingy grey carpet and questionable yellow curtains. But at least Ressler had kept it…neat. Nothing was hanging or tossed about, not even a sock.

"I've already informed Cooper that back-up was not needed. And it's still not needed."

By the squint of his eyes and the tightening of his jaw, Liz was certain he wasn't buying whatever she was trying to sell. She could only prolong what was inevitable; Ressler will figure everything out, as he usually does. "Stop your bullish thinking, it's protocol to have back-up. You've been gone for three months. What is going on here anyway? This motel…your tattoo…"

"I knew it. Cooper has no idea you're here. Damn it, Liz…of all the stupidest things you can do."

He was quick, just as she suspected. "Ressler, can you…can you blame me for worrying about you? You just disappeared, with not even a word. I'm your partner…I deserve better than that."

"Look, this mission is level-three confidentiality, no contact with the outside whatsoever. I couldn't tell you, because THAT was protocol."

"You could've let me know you were alive, that's all I needed."

"I'm not going to break protocol. Liz…you know that." With a deep exhale, the harshness of his tone subsided to unexpected softness, "Plus, I made sure that Reddington would tell you that…I was alright."

"How is Red involved in this? At least tell me that…I need to know if I could trust him."

By the slight shifting of his feet, it was obvious Ressler was considering whether to speak of this at all. "Red helped us get intel on our target, and got me inside. I guess he's my…back-up."

"So, how long were you two prepping for this case? It doesn't sound like it sprung up overnight."

"For about two months. Look, Liz, you really shouldn't be here." Ressler peeked through the curtains to the darkness outside, checking to see if anyone was in sight.

"Two months? How could you not mention even a word to me? I thought…I thought we were…"

"Liz, I will tell you everything you want to know once this operation is completed. For now, I need you to leave. I can't have you in this room…looking like a damn agent. Can't believe you showed up here dressed like that…just what the hell were you thinking?"

Liz looked down upon her clothes, and couldn't help but to agree with his assessment. Her navy pantsuit and dark teal blouse did make her look like…well, a damn agent. Amidst of all the tight preparations, Liz had dismissed the most obvious. "I didn't realize I only packed…these. But I scanned the parameters, there's nobody out there. This place…is like a ghost town."

"Well, you'll be surprised what lurks behind the ghost."

If Ressler was trying to get rid of her, he shouldn't say such things that only filled her heart with strange sense of dread and alarm. Her feet felt heavy and reluctant as she made her way towards the door. He followed her closely behind, and grabbed the doorknob quietly.

"Just…be careful." She turned around to face him one last time, but hadn't realized how close he was standing beside her. She flinched a bit in their startling small space, but surprisingly Ressler held his ground.

"Yeah…you, too." He offered a meek smile of reassurance, but Liz was not buying any of it. She was all too familiar with his face, of every variations and inflections she could recite like a manual on the back of her hand. He could pretend all he wants, but there was not a smile in his eyes. Instead, what was reflected was uncertainty…fear, even.

"Ressler…"

"Liz, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me." He read her mind, and not only that, he didn't want to hear it.

"Just promise me one thing…call in for back-up, when you need it."

"I will."

"And check in more often."

"Yes, ma'am. Anything else?" A glimmer of amusement broke through his hardened eyes, and he let out a faint snicker on the surface of his stubby face. Liz wasn't sure he was going to do any of the things she had just asked him, but in their small, rather intimate space, she didn't want to let him go yet. She felt the sharp pang in her heart, that she was leaving him behind in the realm of all things uncertain.

"Yeah, this stubby, unkempt look…is surprisingly fitting on you."

"Oh, you like it, huh?"

"I do. It gives you that certain…mysterious manly look."

Ressler's lips lifted into a crooked smile, but no words escaped. Perhaps he figured out that Liz was prolonging the inevitable. "Liz, be careful when you walk out there. Always check your grounds."

She couldn't bear to say a word of farewell, so she nodded in acknowledgement and faced the door, getting ready to slip out quickly. Ressler nodded as well, then lifted the curtains by the door to peek outside. He had hardly scanned the area when he muttered, "Damn…"

"What is it?" Liz faced him again, and knew trouble was coming.

"Damn it. My handlers are here."

"Your handlers?"

Ressler grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door, towards the far corner of the room. "You need to hide, now."

Liz looked around the room, and saw only a small bathroom by the kitchen nook. But that was too risky, and she wasn't about to bust this case on a rudimentary mistake. Instead, she had a better idea.

"What are you doing?" Ressler hissed under his breath with his eyes wide, just as she took off her blazer, and started to unbutton her blouse. She had to work quickly, and she wasn't about to waste time explaining it to him.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She flung off her blouse, revealing a lacy black bra underneath. She moved onto the zipper of her pants when two knocks on the door was heard. She looked at Ressler, only to find his mouth agape at her direction.

Two more knocks were heard, and this time a bit louder and peaking in impatience.

"Ressler, take your shirt off."

"What…"

With a huff, she kicked off her pants to the floor, unto the pile of her clothes already forming at the foot of the bed. With her black panties and bra on, Liz jumped into the bed underneath the stiff white sheets, and mussed up her hair.

"Take your shirt off. Just do as I say, Ress!"

. . . . . . . .

**A/N: Thank you for reading this story!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 4**

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Ressler to figure it out. He quickly shed his white t-shirt, tossing it carelessly upon the bed, and after a quick nod at Liz, he opened the door of the motel room. He didn't say a word to the two men behind the door, and as they stepped into the room, it was as if they brought in the eerie silence from the darkness outside.

The men spotted Liz instantly, sitting upright against the headboard with a pillow propped underneath her arm. She was barely covering her breasts with the white sheets, and she was sure the men's eyes outlined the contours of her black bra transparent against the thinness of the motel fabric. With a slow wave of the hand, along with half of a lazy smile, she mumbled, "Hello, boys."

"Busy?" The slightly built man wearing a baseball cap growled at Ressler, just as the other man smiled at Liz while scratching his musky blond beard.

"Yeah, we were both… very busy." Liz could do coy when the situation called upon it.

"Didn't know you had company." The baseball cap man sounded more suspicious than curious, and that was more of a question than a statement. Then he turned to Liz with a bit of a sneer, "You must be from out of town, don't think I've seen you in these parts…"

"Yup, here visiting my man."

"Been wondering if he liked women." The beard man snorted loudly, laughing at his own amusement while none other joined in. "I could personally attest he's had no other woman in here but you, sweetheart."

"You two fellas have names?" She sat up bit more upright, revealing the black bra in plain sight. That seemed to hold their attention, rapt and ready. "I like to get to know his…friends."

"This here is Victor. I'm Anton." The baseball cap man answered swiftly, but he was the tough one. His scowl didn't fade, but Victor was more willing to suspend suspicion and trust in her pretty face, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Lily."

"And where you from?"

"Minnesota."

"You got something for me?" Ressler interrupted with apparent gruff, and stepped in front of the men, demanding their attention from their view of the bed. It was then that Liz was afforded a good look of the tattoo on his right arm, a black diagram of an eagle with its wings spread perched upon a cross. From what she's studied of tattoos in previous cases, she was sure what she was seeing was an insignia of some sort of Russian connection. What she also noticed, and admittedly surprised, was that Ressler was quite…well, nicely muscular. She hadn't known what lied underneath the harsh stodgy suits he's worn, and the sight of the mystery revealed was pleasant, indeed.

"Can we talk business?" Anton threw a glance at Liz, and Ressler turned his eyes upon her as well. As their eyes met, it looked as though Ressler himself didn't know what to do with Liz. She decided to save him the trouble.

She got out of the bed slowly and languidly, all for the benefit of the boys watching, and walked over to Ressler and draped her arms around his bare chest. He was good at this, as expected. He did not flinch at her bold touch, nor give even a hint of surprise. And not only that, Ressler played along quite nicely by caressing her waist with his hand, and pulling her tightly against his chest.

And of course she had to comply; anything less would compromise the operation, needless to say. She readily pressed her body onto his, immediately feeling the heat of his sweat-damp chest while being keenly aware of every muscle of his arm secure against her back. Her hand ran across his chest, outlining every lines and ripples, and he held her strong and steady. Damn, he was good at this.

"Don't worry, boys. Your secrets are safe with me." Liz mumbled against Ressler's neck, all the while keeping her playful eyes upon Anton. Without a second thought, she held Ressler's cheek, and kissed him behind his ear with a soft tease. "Just get it done quickly. I'm getting bored here."

The two men didn't say a word, but Victor appeared to be enjoying the full view of Liz and her black lace lingerie. Ressler noticed it, too, and pulled her arms off his chest, "Put on a shirt, babe."

"Oh, come on…" She coyly protested, and leaned into him and was about to kiss his lips when he pulled back.

"I'm working here."

"Fine." She grabbed his white t-shirt off the bed and threw it over her head quickly. She wasn't about to go for her silk teal blouse. She turned to Victor who hasn't stopped watching her, "Got a smoke?"

"Sure, sweetheart." He happily obliged her with a cigarette and lit it for her, and she took a long puff as she sat back on the bed. Victor lit one for himself, and sat on the edge of the bed, facing Anton who looked to be the one who will be handling business with Ressler.

Liz watched Anton as his skeptical eyes surveyed the surroundings, and although scrutiny never left his demeanor, he reluctantly turned to Ressler standing in front of him. And before a word was uttered, he reached into his pant pocket, and pulled out a lumpy envelope and handed it to Ressler.

"Just as agreed."

Ressler took the envelope and opened it a peek, and closed it quickly. "They're on the move."

"We're taking care of it. Lay low for now."

"And then?"

"Something's coming up next week. We need you to be ready."

"That's not a problem."

"No distractions." Anton was referring to Liz, she was sure of it.

"Not a problem."

"Gotta say, boss is real pleased with your work. He appreciates your…efficiency. After next job, I see a good promotion for you, kid. You might even get a real cut." Anton then turned to Victor, and as on cue, he stood up from the bed and headed for the door.

"Call this number tomorrow morning." Anton handed Ressler a small slip of paper, and before he walked out of the motel room, he turned around for one last time, "You're close, kid. No distractions."

"Not a problem."

Victor followed Anton out the door, but before the last step, he threw Ressler a smile and a wink, "Take it easy, Jakey."

The door closed with a loud thud, and Ressler immediately went to peek out of the curtains, to make sure the company had indeed left them, along with all their suspicions. After thorough scanning, he turned from the curtains with a deep heave, and faced Liz with tightened jaw and expectant eyes.

"What? It got the job done, didn't it?" She picked up her pants off the floor and pulled them up her legs. "And…Jakey?"

"It's supposed to be… Jake. Liz, if this…"

"No, this didn't bust the case. In fact, my being here may have helped your…credibility."

"Helped my credibility? Liz, what you did was completely reckless and…out of control. You have no idea what you've done."

"If you're talking about Anton, he wasn't suspicious as much as being weary of his asset being distracted. You have to admit…we played it right."

Ressler took three steps to close in the distance between them, all the while hissing with fiery glare in his eyes, "Liz, I don't need you to help my credibility, let's just get that straight. I don't know what you're playing at, but one mistake…it only takes one mistake…to put a bullet to my head."

His nose flared a slight with visible anger, and he clenched his teeth tightly, perhaps to quell the maddening words he wanted to unleash. Liz had never seen him at this heightened anger, and she felt loss for words. "Ress…"

"Are you here because you're angry that I didn't tell you what was going on before I left?"

"No…"

"Are you here because…you're curious?"

"No, I mean…I suppose…"

"Why are you here, Liz? Why does any of this matter to you, huh? Just the fact that you clearly defied Cooper's orders…I can't understand what's going on in your head."

"Ress…"

"Why are you here, Liz? Answer me, damn it."

"Look, I'm not here to pick a fight, alright? I didn't fly out here…and yes, against superior orders…to put up a fight because you've neglected to inform your partner of your whereabouts." Liz was stammering for reasons unknown to her, and she couldn't explain even to herself why she showed up at Ressler's motel room. "Did it…did it occur to you that what happens to you…matters to me?"

"So, you put career on the line because…what happens to me matters to you?" He wasn't making this any easier for her.

"My instinct was to cover your back. And you had no back-up."

"Oh, that back-up issue again." Ressler shook his head in a condescending sneer, "So you show up here, pretend to be my…lover…and prance around in your…skivvies. Is that your idea of back-up?"

Now it was her turn to be angry, "Yes, and if you could suspend being an ass about it, you know it worked. I was a credible back-up, whether you'd like to admit it or not."

"Unbelievable."

"If you weren't so stubborn, you'll see that I am all you have."

"Anton would like me to get rid of you, remember? You're my _distraction_."

"Well, unfortunately, that's not up to him. He doesn't get to control what goes on in your bed."

Ressler shook his head again, and this time was in disbelief. "Whatever you're thinking, you're not staying. You are going back, tonight."

That much, she knew. Liz realized she was wearing Ressler's shirt, and was about to take it off to give it to him when he held out his hand.

"No, you keep it." He reached for a shirt from a small dresser by the bed, "Plus you should wear that when you walk out of here."

Agreeing with him, Liz picked up her blouse and suit jacket off the floor and folded them upon her arm. "By the way, I recognize your tattoo, it's of Russian descent. Are you gonna to tell me what's going on here? Or should I just guess?"

"Unbelievable. I should've known you wouldn't leave quietly." Ressler opened a bottle of water and poured some into a plastic cup, and offered it to Liz. "Yes, it is of Russian descent. I'm in the process of…being initiated into the Russian mobster. They're responsible for major arms dealings in the country. That much, I could tell you."

She took the cup from his hand, and readily gulped down the entire content of water. The unfolded scenes and the stifling heat had left her desperately parched. "So, how are you being initiated? You killing people?"

"Yes, that's what they believe I'm doing."

"But how are you going to…"

"That's it, you're done. I'm not saying anything further." Ressler took the empty cup from her hand, and peeked through the curtains to the outside darkness. "It's time for you to leave."

With a sigh of final surrender and acceptance of the firm sentiment, Liz put her feet into her black pumps and grudgingly walked to the door. She would've liked to know more about this case, but she knew Ressler had more than enough of her inquisition.

"Watch your grounds. Be careful out there. Watch your back." He whispered to her just as he opened the door for her. She stepped outside to the heat and the eerie stillness, but turned to face him before another step.

"You be careful, too."

"I will." He offered her a small smile, but it only brought distant pain in her heart.

"Now, kiss me."

"What?"

"Just do it, Ress." Liz grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him to her lips, firmly and resolutely. She captured his stiff lips and forced them to open, and soon enough, he was kissing her back with considerable ardor that took her by surprise. His soft lips teased and suckled on her lips, with a tinge of need and desire, and she could've sworn she felt a growl from deep within him. Never mind that this was all for show to whoever was watching…this wasn't bad at all for a…pretend kiss. In fact, she could've caressed his soft blond hair above his neck a bit longer if it was left entirely up to her.

They broke apart, with both in breathless bewilderment, and before Ressler could say anything, Liz left him at the door and walked quickly down the street toward her car.

. . . . . . . .

Liz returned to the black site the next day with trepidation and unease, for she had neglected to communicate to Cooper about her absence the day before. She still hadn't decided whether she should just come clean and fess up, if he didn't know already. She was ready and willing to accept the consequences, however severe, but it still didn't make her regret any of her actions. No, she would've done it again in a heartbeat if it meant she had seen Ressler with her own eyes.

Just as she stepped off the elevator, Aram intercepted Liz as she headed toward Cooper's office. He motioned her to follow to her office.

"Agent Keen, so did you make it to…"

"Yeah. I saw him. He's safe."

"Oh good, that's a relief. So what happened out there?"

"We just…talked a bit. That's all." That is all anyone needed to know, "I have to go talk to Cooper. Wish me luck."

"Oh, don't worry about Director Cooper. Mr. Reddington called in and said you were with him all day on a case."

. . . . . . . .

"Thanks for covering for me, I appreciate it."

Reddington didn't say a word in response, and by the tight smirk of his lips she was sure he was harboring…certain unpleasant feelings towards her, to say the least. She did steal his cell phone after all. And lied to him. And basically did everything against his wishes of the matter.

"Are you…upset at me?"

"Upset isn't the word for it…it's more like annoyed. Lizzie, you managed to do everything I've told you not to do."

"Red…I'm sorry. But I had to go see him for myself."

"Yeah, I got that. It still doesn't make it a smart move."

"I know." She was afraid to ask, "Is the operation still intact? Have you heard anything?"

"Haven't heard anything yet, but I wouldn't breathe a sigh of relief just yet, if I were you. This could still blow up in your face."

"Great."

"I hope it was worth it."

Liz wasn't about to tell him that there was no doubt it was worth it. She had to admit, this wasn't like her at all. Even to her own assessment, her attitude seemed incredibly flippant, that she was more than willing to disregard the operation, in favor of…one person. But not just any person…it was Ressler. And it was as if she was almost…blinded in her pursuit to see him. And there was nothing she wouldn't do to ensure that he was safe…and alive.

"Have you heard from Ressler?"

"No."

"Will you please tell me if he calls you?"

"Lizzie, I could no longer guarantee you that." Reddington seemed absolutely firm on that stance. It was clear he was more than annoyed.

"Will you at least tell me if the operation is compromised? Please, Red…I need to know." If the operation is compromised, that would mean something had happened with Ressler.

"Lizzie, you need to just drop this. And that is my last warning to you. The operation…is intact for now, and we are doing everything we can, on our end, to ensure that it completes as we have planned."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Just drop it, it's for your own good. The more you meddle with Ressler, you are putting him in danger."

. . . . . . .

It's been nearly three months since Liz had seen Ressler, and she hadn't heard a word about him. Cooper was utterly silent on the matter, and she wasn't about to inquire since his last warning to her. Reddington was also true to his word, that he would no longer supply Liz with information that does not apply to her. And as expected, Reddington was determined and resilient, and she didn't stand a chance no matter how much she persisted.

It was at the end of the fourth month that Cooper had called her into his office.

"Agent Keen, you've been assigned to field operation."

"Yes, sir."

"The operation will take one week. And it is level-three confidentiality."

"Understood, sir."

"Agent Ressler will debrief you, once you arrive at the location."

"Sir?"

"He called for back-up. And he requested you."

. . . . . . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading the story! And who else is as EXCITED as me for the return of The Blacklist on Sept. 22? It's about a month away! Some pictures and spoilers have started to leak, and I AM SO COMPLETELY EXCITED!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 5**

This time, she packed the right clothes. Plus some essentials, such as two pistols that Ressler had requested. Accounting her own two guns, she was carrying four weapons in her small luggage aboard the unmarked FBI chopper, headed to Philadelphia.

In about an hour, Liz will land at an undisclosed location in the outskirts of Philadelphia, and Ressler will be there to pick her up. It was nearly two in the morning, and as she looked out the window of the chopper, all she saw was bleak darkness of the dim moon sky. The engine growled and roared, as if angry and determined, and Liz felt as though all her inner parts were shaking to its maddening rhythm. She really should catch some sleep now when she can, but that was the furthest thing on her mind.

She didn't think twice before accepting the operation task; it was not even a question that she should leave immediately. She didn't once ask what or why, but readily hopped on the chopper, with her heart racing ahead in breathless anticipation and fervor. She knew nothing of what was waiting for her and had no intel of the mission, just word that she will be debriefed once she arrived at the location. It didn't escape her that she was diving head first into glaring uncertainties, and under normal circumstances she would find this entire situation unsettling and intolerably irrational.

Yet none of those sentiments mattered to her, in the most absolute sense of the word. All she cared about at the moment, all that her heart raced for, was that she would be seeing Ressler and the damn chopper couldn't travel fast enough. Ressler needed her, and that's all she needed to know about the mission. All of her heart's anxiety lied with this man, whether he needed her because he was in trouble, or worse yet if he was hurt. She winced at the mere thought, and checked her watch with a grimace. Thirty more minutes remained until they landed, until she saw him for herself.

She blinked into the cloudless dark sky, and her mind wandered to what she remembered of her visit. His tattoo, the long unkempt hair, the scruffy face, and the small dingy motel room. She was dressed in nothing but her bra and panties, and she still blushed at the thought. It was a hot and muggy night, and the motel room was stuffy and suffocating. His bare chest was sprinkled with beads of sweat as he held her tight, and his eyes played along with the startling look of…desire. Sure, it was for the benefit of the two men watching, but she had to admit that…it wasn't too difficult to play the part. And the kiss…well, the pretend kiss, anyway. Liz has yet to decide how she truly felt about that glaring detail.

Liz was abruptly brought back to the present moment when the escorting agent tapped on her shoulder, handing her the chopper phone.

"_This is Keen."_

"_Hello, Lizzie."_

"_Red."_

"_I heard from Cooper that you're traveling. I told him perhaps this was not the best idea."_

"_Ressler needs me."_

"_What he needs is the SWAT team. The operation is becoming too dangerous, I'm suggesting abort."_

"_If Ressler needed the SWAT team, he would've called for it. He knows what he's doing, and I know I could help him."_

"_You seem confident about that."_

"_I am." _

"_Lizzie, if I may ask, just what exactly went down there during your last visit?" _

She had only given him the barest perfunctory accounts of the visit, and there was no way in hell she would give him more than that. What happened between her and Ressler would remain strictly with them, and she was certain he would agree as well, if not prefer it. _"Red, I know what I'm doing."_

"_What did Donald tell you about the operation?"_

"_Just that it was a Russian mob involved with arms dealing."_

"_I see that he wasn't as truthful as you'd like to believe."_

"_What does that suppose to mean?"_ Liz was sure Ressler wasn't lying to her. He couldn't have…

"_Well, I wouldn't say he was lying, per se, but I could assure you that what he described was just a tip of the iceberg. Lizzie, this case…is much deeper than you think, and perhaps Donald himself realized he's way in over his head. I'm on my way to see Cooper, and I'm suggesting abort. We need to send in the SWAT team, and end this operation, now."_

"_But Ressler is not done, the mission is not completed."_

"_That's beside the point. I can't have two lives endangered, plus Donald has collected sufficient intel."_

"_No, don't call off the operation, not yet. Let me find out what Ressler is up to first, he would know best what to do."_

There was a considerable pause on the other end of the line, and Liz knew Red was never the one to be easily convinced or persuaded. _"Red, please…don't call off the op. Ressler is rigid, hard-headed, and stubborn, yes. But he's not stupid. He will never persist in an operation he couldn't rationalize."_

"_Perhaps."_

"_And he would never call me in for back-up…if it placed me in danger."_

"_That, I would agree with."_

"_Just give us a week, that's all I'm asking."_

. . . . . . .

Liz stepped off the chopper with an aid of an agent, who quickly handed her the small luggage as she found footing on the graveled tarmac. The chopper rotor blade was running powerfully in deafening fright, making it difficult to see with her hair flying into her eyes, and it didn't help that the entire place was eerily unlit. In the pitch darkness of the night, with only a row of small lights on the ground to guide her, Liz made her way gingerly across the tarmac to a small dilapidated warehouse. It was there that she spotted Ressler standing by a beat-up grey truck.

It's been nearly four months since she had seen him, and the sudden sight of him caused a ripple of shock waves through her heart, and she held her breath in a sharp grimace. In her mind, she had expected to see him, yes. But she hadn't foreseen how her own heart would react at having those longings finally fulfilled, and she couldn't explain, even to herself, why she felt mired in these mysterious emotions at the sight of him.

Under the dim casting of a lone light above his head, the definition of his face became clearer as she walked cautiously towards him. Ressler gave her a small smile as their eyes met, and she could've sworn in her heart sprung a flutter that threw her in a sudden spin of confusion and bewilderment.

"Hey." There was a tired gruff in his voice. It was three in the morning, after all.

"Hey."

He took her bag from her hands, which admittedly wasn't the type of chivalry she would demand from their work relationship. But he didn't hesitate, even though she flinched in reflex. "Ready to go?"

"Yup."

She quickly opened the door of the passenger seat, propelled by an awkward need to rob him of the opportunity, if he were to do it for her. She didn't think he would…but then again, she wasn't entirely sure. But more than that, she didn't know why she even resisted the idea. He climbed in to the driver's seat, and started the engine of the old truck which grumbled in heavy reluctance.

They drove out of the small air strip, with not a soul in sight. Liz turned to Ressler, "So, what do you need me to do? Fill me up on the intel."

"We should wait until we get to the motel room to discuss it."

"Alright." She didn't feel as though greetings and pleasantries were called for between them; it wasn't like they were two old friends who hadn't seen each other for a long time. No, it was more complicated. And they were more complicated. Perhaps it was their…kiss that brought in this…complication. But damn it, it was a pretend kiss, done under the guise for an op. In the most practical sense, it didn't happen…and it certainly didn't happen in "real life". Right?

"You could sleep, if you want. We have an hour drive."

"I'd like to…but I'm wide awake, actually. Maybe it's the heat."

Ressler glanced at her briefly and smirked, "Well, you better get used to the heat, it ain't gonna let up any time soon. Maybe we should get a bite to eat. Getting some food in your stomach might help you to sleep."

They drove for another fifteen minutes until they spotted a small diner that boasted of twenty-four hour dining. The place was brightly lit with bright colored walls, all to attract customers who may find bright places more welcoming. Ressler parked the car near the entrance, and they filed out like two people who were dreadfully tired and bothered.

The interior of the diner was a strange mixture of Americana and colonial, with a bit of Spanish flair thrown in. It was nearly empty, save for an old couple seated by the far end, and some kind of sixties soft rock music was playing above their heads. Ressler and Liz were promptly seated in the booth by the window.

After a quick perusal of the menu, he ordered steak and eggs while she ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. The waitress brought two mugs, and filled them with steaming coffee. Liz took a sip while Ressler surveyed the surroundings once more. "Ever the agent man, I see."

"Just making sure."

"Surprised you didn't frisk the waitress. And the busboy looked awfully suspicious."

"Funny." Ressler rolled his eyes in a gentle sneer, and took a sip of his coffee. In the brightly lit room, Liz was afforded a good look of his face, and his hair was shorter this time around. But his chin still sported that stubby shadow.

"Got a haircut?"

"Yeah, it's been awhile since…"

"Four months."

He averted his eyes from her as he took another sip of the coffee. Perhaps he was taken aback to the recollections of her last visit, and by the faint discomfiture reflected upon his face, she was certain that his mind quickly lingered onto that very complicated and that very particular piece of memory. But he wasn't going to talk about it, no and never, to the utmost resolute. "So…"

"So?" His eyes settled on her face once again, with weary hesitation.

"Am I to understand that I'm…Lily?"

"That would be…yes."

"I assumed that much." They were briefly interrupted by the waitress as she laid their food plates on their table. They ate their food silently, until Liz couldn't stand their awkward tension any longer. "I brought your gear."

"Oh, thanks."

"And just to let you know, I'm better prepared this time."

"Good." Ressler had understood that Liz was talking about her clothing. She still cringed at the thought of her wearing navy pantsuit during the last visit.

As much as Liz was attempting to be conversational, Ressler wasn't helping much and his eyes hardly left the sight of his diminishing plate of food. She understood that, in his typical cautious fashion, he would prefer to wait until in utmost privacy to talk about the case. But would it kill him to carry on a conversation, no matter how vapid? They were alone, eating together. It very well may be a social etiquette…to fake a conversation, if need be. "So, how are we…"

"I don't want to talk about the case, not here." Ressler hissed under his breath, clutching the mug of coffee near his lips.

"I wasn't trying to…"

"Let's just…take this as a practice."

"Practice? For what?"

"As two people…eating together, being a couple. We should practice, so we can be, you know…convincing."

"Oh, I don't need to practice to be convincing." Liz didn't want to, but couldn't help it. She felt affronted at Ressler who had clearly suggested that she needed practice, as if her past "actions" were not convincing enough. Surely he didn't think her undercover was lacking. She thought she played the part perfectly, and without a warning, no less…how could he possibly think that she should've done more?

"No, you certainly don't." Ressler mumbled barely audibly, perhaps more to himself, but as soon as the words escaped his lips, his face took on an odd countenance of befuddlement and awkward chagrin. His cheeks quickly took on a warm tinge of red, such as a school boy caught writing a love note. "What I mean is…while I don't underestimate your ability, nor do I doubt it…we can always use practice. Just to get used to each other in mundane things, you know…because I'm sure this time around, we will be put under different circumstances. We have to be prepared."

"Right, I agree with you. Just so that we are clear…we are a couple?"

"Yes."

"This might sound odd…but so that I'm prepared…are we a serious couple? As in…"

"It sure looked like it the last time you were here, didn't it? And I told them that we were…serious."

"I see." Truth be told, Liz didn't see any reason why Ressler would need to inform them of such nature of their "relationship". In the scheme of this operation, that detail was quite unnecessary. Unless, Ressler wanted to keep her around.

"Look, Liz, they were serious when they said to get rid of you. They thought I would be distracted, as you remember."

"You could've gotten rid of me, if you wanted to. But…you wanted to keep me around?"

"Well, I guess I thought about what you said." Ressler stared at his coffee mug, averting his eyes from her again, perhaps to avoid the smug curl of smile that appeared on her face with a certain satisfied flair. She had known she was right when they argued about it the last time, and he was just being stubborn to admit it. But not this time. "You were right. I do need a back-up, and you are all I have. There you have it."

"Yes, I was right." She didn't need to drill it into him, but at the moment she felt quite playful and jovial. It didn't help that Ressler's own eyes reflected a certain twinkle of mischievous jest, and she could've sworn his eyes carried an undeniable…flirtatious lilt.

"Do you need me to repeat myself?" He leaned in slightly towards her, with the flirty eyes intact, "I'll go on record and admit that you were right, this one time."

"We are keeping score, I see. That's real mature."

"Hey, in this game of love and war, I'm just being fair."

"Fine. Keen, one. Ressler, zero. We'll see how this fair game pans out in the end."

"Already, not fair. I have at least fifteen accumulated!" It was then that Ressler let out a low guttural laughter, and although she could see he was trying to suppress it, he was clearly beyond containment. She couldn't help but to laugh along with him, taken aback by how relaxed and unguarded he appeared just now. It has been quite awhile since she's seen him laugh, let alone crack a smile. It was certainly a welcoming sight to see some of the hardened walls come down, even for a little while.

But soon enough, Ressler caught himself enjoying what he naught to enjoy, and his face took on grim lines again. "As I was saying, you are only required for one week."

"Am I to understand that you are near completion? Will you be returning home…with me?"

"Doesn't look like it."

She held her tongue as she was ready to argue that there was no way she was leaving without him. Even Reddington thought that this operation should be aborted and was not worth the danger that was placed upon Ressler. Liz exerted force and will to hide all of the anguish from her face, but she felt as though she was breaking down fast. The only reason…the sole reason of her existence at that place…was to bring Ressler home with her, after she was done with her one week. "When do you think it'll be completed?"

He took in a breath before responding to her, and she knew nothing good was coming after it, "I need one more year."

That was the unfortunate end note as Ressler paid the bill, and they filed out of the restaurant. They quietly climbed into the truck, and they drove for another thirty minutes, with not a word exchanged between them. Liz knew better than to argue with Ressler in the truck, and she abated her breath and decided to wait until they arrived at the motel. She was even tempted to call Reddington and have him send in the SWAT team to do away with this op, once and for all. There was absolutely no way in hell that she was going to leave Ressler in this place for a year.

They arrived at the motel a little before five in the morning, and the sun was poking its head from under the orange clouds in the east. Ressler carried her luggage bag into the room, and the place was just as she had left it four months ago. Even though it was early morning, it was already muggy with humid heat, and the motel room felt suffocating to her already peaked temperament. It also didn't help that she was utterly exhausted.

Ressler laid her bag next to the lone bed, and studied her face. "You look exhausted."

"I am." She realized she hadn't slept a wink all night.

"I'm tired as hell myself. How about we catch some Z's?" He looked around the small motel room, and scratched his head. He was most likely attempting to figure out the sleeping arrangement for the tiny space that was clearly designed for a party of one, or two people of very intimate relations. "You take the bed. I'll take the floor."

He took the most obvious option, but Liz had to protest, even just a little. "No, you take the bed. It's your bed, after all. I'll take the floor, I don't mind it."

"No, it's fine." After a rather curt response, Ressler took one pillow from the bed and took out a thin blanket from the small closet by the door. He chose the spot between the bed and the kitchen nook, and spread the blanket on the dingy carpet. After he threw down the pillow, he looked down upon his new sleeping spot, and tried as might, he couldn't mask the tinge of dread. She didn't blame him; the carpet was indeed a hard sell.

He looked at her after a moment, and certainly after some acceptance of the new sleeping situation. He placed his hands upon his pant waist, as he often does, and stood there looking at Liz with a fair amount of awkward constraint. "So…"

"You're not expecting visitors today?"

"No, they're not due for another three days."

"Three days?" She had expected to go to work immediately, and the three day wait was…well, a wait.

"I thought it would be good for you to come out here early, so we could work on the op thoroughly." It was as if Ressler had read her mind.

"Sure, that makes sense." Liz looked around their crammed surroundings again, "So, how should we do this?"

"Do what?"

"I mean…do I put away my stuff? Or…how do you want this to look like?"

"You could put your stuff anywhere you want. Make it look like you're comfortable here, you know. Like you live here, almost."

"Your guys know I'm here, correct?"

"Yes."

With a nod of understanding, Liz opened her small luggage bag, and immediately produced four guns. Ressler took them from her hands, and hid two under the mattress, and the other two were stowed away in the kitchen cupboard somewhere. The ammo was placed in the flower pot by the window, deep in the dry dirt and dead weed.

She placed some of her toiletries in the tiny bathroom, next to his shaving cream and razor, although it looked as though he hasn't shaved for a month. She didn't bring any hair products and hoped to rely on his, but was disappointed to find only a bar of soap in the shower.

Ressler was still standing in his spot with his arms perched on his waist when she came out of the bathroom. "Just curious…how do you wash your clothes?"

"Liz, don't worry about it. You're not staying that long."

"And is there a convenience store somewhere?"

"Why?"

"I need to buy…shampoo and conditioner."

"Jesus Christ, Liz. This isn't some damn summer camp." She was sure he had just rolled his eyes and huffed like he had heard some incredulous news, "There's a market a mile away. Anything else you need?"

"I don't know. I mean, you have practically nothing here." She didn't mean to sound cross, but it was irritating as hell that Ressler was treating her like some spoiled girl who needed her particular way.

"Well, I don't need much. I'm on the job."

There were times, admittedly few and rare, that Ressler's brusque and terse temperament managed to get under her skin. This was one of those moments. She would agree that this was not a friendly sleep-over, but she nonetheless needed some basic supplies. Just exactly when was the last time Ressler had crossed paths with a woman?

"Sorry…I'll, uh, go pick some up later." He sounded apologetic enough, but at the moment, she was willing to chalk up their tension due to fatigue and the stifling heat of the room.

"No, don't worry about it. It's…nothing."

Liz grabbed a white tank top and headed to the bathroom to change, without another look towards Ressler. She didn't want to discuss it, or argue about it. All she wanted to do was get some sleep.

When she got out of the bathroom, Ressler was lying down on the spot next to the bed. And by the gentle sound of his steady breathing, it was clear that he had already fallen asleep. He was wearing a thin white t-shirt, and his back was spotted damp with beads of sweat.

Liz turned off the lone lamp and climbed onto the bed quietly, and got under the thin yellow sheets. Hazy orangey sunlight was seeping through the tightly drawn orange curtains, and the last thought before her world went black was that it was going to be a long three days.

. . . . . . .

Liz looked at the small digital clock on the bed stand as soon as her eyes fluttered open. It was a bit past noon. She had slept for about six hours. By now the sunlight beat on the window with cruel agility, and the curtains looked as though melting under the heated duress. A blazing pain suddenly spiked through her head, and she desperately needed a couple of aspirins. And some coffee.

Instinctively she looked to her left, to the ground where Ressler had slept. And he was still there, fast asleep, and this time without a shirt. He must have shed that layer due to the heat, and there was no doubt he was deep in slumber as he stirred not a muscle. Liz kept her eyes on his sleeping form for a moment longer, lingering over his blond hair that was softly tousled against the pillow. Her eyes wandered to his face, to his long eye lashes that curled a slight, his sharp proud nose, and his full rosy lips. It still struck her as odd that they were in this room together, sleeping not two feet away from each other. And if the right person had inquired, she may even admit that she found him quite…handsome.

But Liz decided to shake off that thought all together, and gingerly climbed off the bed with the sole purpose of a cool shower. That sounded just about the perfect thing at the moment, and she walked quietly around sleeping Ressler, and made her way toward the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the door carefully so as to not wake him, and she turned to the sink to find her toothbrush.

And it was then that she spotted them. A bottle of shampoo and a bottle of conditioner. And not only that, he had also bought a bar of soap, just for her. She was sure he had placed them next to her toothbrush, so that she will spot them right away.

At that moment, all of her thoughts simply escaped her faculties as she stood, staring at the items carefully lain on the sink. She may have been wearing a dopey grin, yes. And she wasn't going to deny that she found this seemingly small act incredibly sweet and…surprising. She was completely unaware of even when he had left the motel room. And why…why would he do this? Just who the hell are you, Donald Ressler?

. . . . . . . .

**A/N: Thank you for reading this little story! It is finally September, and we are less than a month away for the new season of THE BLACKLIST!**

**Just a quick note about this story…..I'm mostly a romance writer (I write action, just barely out of necessity), and this story will mostly contain Liz/Ressler rubbing lives (literally and figuratively). I miss them so much, and I really want to see more of them living out the mundane, like having some "normal, non-case" conversations. This story kinda fulfills that "fantasy" for me. So, don't expect some life/death actions, it's going to be all fluff...**

**Lastly…TO THE GUEST WHO'S BEEN PERSISTENTLY CORRECTING ME ON IT'S VS. IT'D. "It's" is a contraction of both "it is" AND "it has". So, when I say, "It's been three months since..." I'm saying, "It HAS been three months…" and NOT "it IS been…". "It has" is called a PRESENT PERFECT CONTINUOUS where the action is presently on-going, but the origin is in the past. So, are we clear on this? Just to make sure, let's review this again. IT'S is a contraction of both IT IS and IT HAS. OK?!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 6**

The cool shower washed away the grime, sweat, and all the residual drowsiness of the early afternoon haze. If it was left entirely up to her, Liz could've stood under the streaming water for another half an hour. But she felt conscientious of the certain slumbering figure beyond the closed door, and she hurriedly rinsed off the last bit of soap off her body. Then she made sure to cap on the bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and placed them on the tiny window ledge above the shower, along with the soap. All of the items that Ressler had bought for her were used, appreciated, and lined up like some treasure trinkets that held far more value to the owner than its actual worldly worth.

All three items were scented with sweet jasmine, and it made Liz chuckle at the thought of hulking Ressler in the women's cosmetics aisle, fiddling with various shampoos, and debating which scent to purchase. She wondered why he chose sweet jasmine. Perhaps he thought of her, and grappled with which scent most suited her. Or it may have been his own preference of a scent on a…woman. Then it begged the question: did he think of her as…a woman? Did he see her as a woman?

Admittedly, that was difficult to tell sometimes. She was his work partner, his back-up, and perhaps nothing more than that. Ressler had requested her presence to assist in the operation, and she may have been just the carrier of the guns he wanted. And he made it abundantly clear that he wanted her to leave as soon as her part was done. No, he didn't mince words nor shield his true feelings. And not only that, he just seemed…grumpy, irritated, and annoyed with Liz. She couldn't shake off the feeling that he was somehow displeased with her, that she was a source of the most infuriating hindrance. Heck, they bickered practically the whole night.

"Oh, the hell with it." Liz muttered to herself as she stepped out of the shower, "He is who he is." And that was the conclusion she chose for the moment, the only explanation that could possibly shed light on how he vacillated between surprisingly sweet to downright petulant. "What does it matter to me anyways? We just need to survive each other for a week."

There was only one towel in the bathroom, a dingy grey one at that, and she grabbed it without a second thought. Sure it belonged to Ressler, but she had no other choice. She patted herself dry, and his familiar scent teasingly invaded the air around her. The towel emanated a faint odor of his aftershave, and a certain fresh musky scent. It was Ressler, alright, and in the deepest unaware, like a trance, her mind drifted to the vision of him stepping out of the shower, grabbing that towel, and…

"Oh, god. No." Liz shook her head and quickly hung the towel on the hook, looking like a thief getting rid of…evidence. Did she just imagine Ressler…out of the shower? Both mortified and abashed, she felt fire heated from somewhere deep within her, and the small mirror reflected that very embarrassment upon her bright reddened cheeks. She closed her eyes for a moment to shut out all of her thoughts, then hastily put on her clothes and walked out of the bathroom, like a thief escaping the scene of the…crime.

"Hey." The motel room was small, yes. But why did it feel like she bumped into Ressler at every turn?

"Hey." He grumbled back, himself startled at the abrupt appearance of Liz at the bathroom door. His quick eyes scanned her wet sopping hair first, then gradually settled on her face, "You alright in there?"

"Yeah, I'm…fine." She avoided his eyes as he leaned back to let her pass by, and she decided to look busy by making the bed.

"Did you sleep OK?" Ressler stood by the bed and kept his eyes on Liz, and it almost felt like his probing eyes could look right through her. Damn it, she knew he could sense something was a bit amiss, but why did he have to poke?

"Yeah. And you?"

"Yeah, I guess." He took a step closer to her, "Liz, are you sure you're alright? You look…flushed."

"I think it's the heat."

"Here, I keep this on during the day." He switched on the ceiling fan, "I know it doesn't help that much, but it's better than nothing. And there's cold water in the fridge."

"Thanks." He was right; the ceiling fan in no way dented the musty heat wave in the room, "It does help."

He gave her a half smile before hesitantly turning toward the bathroom, but not before one last look of…something Liz wasn't quite sure of. Was it concern? Or perhaps, confusion?

"Hey, Ress…by the way…thanks for the shampoo and stuff."

"Nah, don't mention it."

"You really didn't have to…you know…"

"It's no big deal." But he did linger by the bathroom door, then turned to face her, "Did you, uh, like them? I had no idea what to buy…or what you liked."

"They're perfect, exactly what I wanted."

"Good."

As she held his gaze, a smile came naturally for her at the moment, and he readily returned it with a faint exhale of relief. What she really wanted to say was that she found his gesture incredibly sweet and endearing, but she didn't think such comment was within the boundaries of their…work relationship. Damn, that work relationship again, and the reminder of it only brought back the awkward tension.

"And, uh, I used your towel."

"Remind me to get an extra towel from the motel front office." He rolled his eyes, most likely in mild jest, and opened the door to the bathroom. "Damn it, Liz…"

"What?"

"It smells like some flower garden exploded in here."

Well, that's what sweet jasmine smells like. "Oh, for heaven sakes…"

"And…you left something in here. Your, umm…"

"What is it…" With a huff, Liz walked briskly to the bathroom and stood behind Ressler, and focused her eyes upon the object in which his eyes were targeting. With her jaw tightening in aghast, she fixed her eyes on her bra…a pink one, at that…which was hanging on the door knob inside the bathroom. She snatched it without a moment's loss, just as Ressler averted his attention to the ceiling.

"Sorry…" Liz had no other words for him, and he didn't say a word as she scurried out of the bathroom. Soon the door was securely shut and the running of the shower was heard. She threw her bra into her luggage bag, and needing something to cool off her flushed cheeks, she went for the water bottles in the small fridge.

As she held the cold bottle against her face, she couldn't help but wonder if Ressler was making a bigger deal about it than it warranted. It wasn't like he hasn't seen a bra…or more specifically, HER bra. In fact, he's seen plenty of where that came from. He's seen her in nothing but a bra and panties…so what harm does this lone bra make?

"Oh, the hell with it. It's not a big deal." She decided once and for all, and roughly uncapped the bottle of water, and took a long gulp of it. She felt the cold water invading to the last tip of her body, and strangely it helped to calm her nerves, "Yes, it's not a big deal." And knowing Ressler, he's never going to bring it up, not even to jest. If anything, this was nothing compared to what happened during her last visit.

Liz finished the water with another long gulp, and looked around the small kitchen nook. She spotted an old coffee maker, and it appeared to have been used fairly recently. She opened a wall cupboard, and found a small brown bag of ground coffee.

"Good job, Ress." She mumbled to herself as she needed coffee, badly, and this couldn't compare to any other surprising treasure find.

As the coffee was brewing, Liz had nothing else to do…but to snoop around a bit. With one ear fixed upon the running shower, she opened a drawer of the small dresser. She found t-shirts, socks, and boxers…not a big deal. In another drawer was a collection of random knick-knacks: flash light, batteries, hunting knife, masking tape, a cord of thin rope, and measuring tape. Perfect for a camping trip, or a make-shift deadly weapon, expertly fashioned in Ressler's hands. It was quite predictable that Ressler had kept this place clean…as in no evidence found of his involvement with the alleged Russian mob.

The shower was abruptly turned off, and Liz repositioned herself next to the coffee maker. As he stepped out of the bathroom, she poured some coffee into two mugs she found in the cupboard.

Ressler walked into the view wearing a fresh t-shirt and jeans, with his blond hair in wet clumps and uncombed. She handed him a mug of coffee without him asking for it, "Drink up…liquid magic."

"Great, I needed this. Thank you, I love you for it."

What did he just say? Did he say…love? Never mind the context, the utterance of that word startled her, but even before she could catch her next breath, Ressler quickly…and in a voice undeniably quivering…imposed into the oddly hung air. "This is really good. I appreciate you making the coffee. I truly appreciate it."

It was an overly-done show of gratitude, and she got the point. "No problem."

They drank the coffee in silence, standing by the coffee maker like it was some company water cooler, except here nobody was talking. Ressler was the first to say something, anything. "So…"

"So?"

"Do you need to see my boxers?"

"What?"

"It's only a fair trade. I see your bra, you see my boxers."

"You've got to be kidding me…" Liz couldn't believe he brought that up, as if he's going to tread where he definitely shouldn't. And she was ready to punch his face, along with that mischievous grin of his, if he brought up her black bra incident. "It's OK…I've already seen it."

"What?"

"I mean, boxers for bra…that's hardly a fair trade. Come on, a bra has far more worth than some washed-up boxers. That's practically just a piece of cloth."

"So, what are you saying? What would be a fair trade for a bra?" He leaned back from her, just a slight, but enough for her to sense his discomfiture at certain delicate scruples. "I'm almost afraid to ask…"

"Oh, just drop it. That's not what I meant…but, never mind. This conversation is over." She was annoyed, as a woman feeling exasperated at a man, and she grabbed his empty mug and along with her own mug, placed them in the sink. She was done discussing her bra.

"Well, to be completely fair, you should get more points for your black bra." He muttered, perhaps more to himself, but the words were out and heard in their small space.

"What?"

"Uh, never mind. Let's get some food."

. . . . . . .

"The group is just a small faction, employed by a powerful Chechen group, whose arms dealing is a front for distributing a major chemical weapon, known as RK2. They are manufacturing this chemical somewhere in the States, and the distribution of it has reached global. Now, this chemical is nothing like we've seen before. Its potency and concentration, even at a small amount, can wipe out all living elements within a ten-mile radius zone, in the wrong hands. And they are going to the wrong hands."

"I see"

"The location of where the Chechen group mainly operates from is unknown, but I've been able to narrow it down to three places: Baltimore, Chicago, and Boston."

"And your target is the location."

"Yes, so we can shut down the lab."

"How close are you to the intel?"

Ressler had ordered pizza, and after a quick eat, it was now time for business as they huddled at the tiny kitchen table. "Not close enough. I've…underestimated these hick-town Russians, they are far more intuitive and discreet than I thought. It took me over six months to even be allowed to set a foot in their meeting place."

"Where is the meeting place? What happens there?"

"It's in a warehouse behind an old restaurant, about twenty miles away. The main operations are handled there, but I need to get to their communication lines from the Chechen group."

"How will you do that?"

"Do you have my gear from Cooper?"

Liz retrieved a small plastic bag that Cooper had given her, and handed it to Ressler. He used a small box cutter to open the contents, and from the bag produced a small metal box. He opened the box, and in it were about a dozen of what looked to be tiny electronic magnets.

"These devices intercept communications, whether it's from cell-phone, land line, or wireless waves. They collect data, such as where the communication has been initiated, and they will divert the line directly to the FBI office. It also latches on to any surrounding computer device, so a tech can hack in there to retrieve data."

"Every communications, within that location?"

"Yes."

"And all you have to do is plant these buggers in the warehouse."

"That's the plan."

The plan sounded simple enough, but Liz knew better than to underestimate the complexity, and the danger, of these seemingly uncomplicated tasks. "So, what's going on in three days?"

"The guys you met…Anton and Victor…they're coming to take me to the meeting place, to meet the boss himself. If it all goes according to plan, I'll be fully initiated and be given a bit more liberties."

"And that's when you'll plant the devices?"

"I'm hoping to, yes. At the first opportunity. But these guys…are unpredictable, and very thorough. I don't know what would be waiting for me there."

"So, what do you need me to do?"

Ressler paused in a slight grimace, and with a deep inhale, he continued, "Look, Liz…I wouldn't have called you in if I didn't need you. Don't ever underestimate these small town guys, they're far more sophisticated than they look. Don't forget that."

"Ok…"

"The planned scenario is that you trail our car, and get me out when I'm done planting the devices. If we're successful, we leave this place, that night."

"What is the non-planned scenario?"

"If something were to happen to me inside, you infiltrate the place and position the devices yourself. I believe the devices can pick up within ten-feet radius."

"How would we be able to communicate, if something were to happen to you?"

Ressler fished into the plastic bag, and pulled out what looked to be two small shirt buttons. "This is an alerting device. I'm going to wear this, and if something goes awry…here, let me show you."

He then handed her one of the devices, "If I push mine, yours will lit up." Liz held it in her hand, and as Ressler pushed his, her device emanated an alerting red light. "So, if you see your device lit up, that's a go-ahead. The warehouse is two-leveled, so it's best to plant the devices on the upper floor. Make sure you cover wide range of space."

"And then?"

"You leave…return to DC, immediately."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll figure something out." It was as if Ressler had sensed the coming of her protest, for he got up from his chair and headed to the fridge. He took out a bottle of beer, and with a side glance, muttered, "We're not discussing this."

"And why the hell not? I'm not leaving you behind."

"That's not up to you." He was beginning to sound just as agitated as she was, "Your assignment is that these devices are planted. That is your mission. Period."

"The hell it is…Ress, I'm not taking off without you…god knows what can happen."

"That is the plan, approved by Cooper. Follow your orders."

It was difficult to believe that Cooper would endorse a plan that would potentially leave one of his top agents in a great jeopardy. She didn't care how important this case was; she would never accept this plan. "I should've listened to Red when he said this mission was becoming too dangerous. Red wanted to call in the SWAT team, and raid the place. Let's arrest these men, and get them to fess up."

"We're not calling in the SWAT. Not yet, anyway."

"Then when? After you're dead?"

"Jesus Christ, Liz…" He finished off his beer in a furious huff, and threw the empty bottle into the trash can, in an agitated flicker of hand that did not go unnoticed by Liz. "Just follow your orders. It's that simple."

"First of all, don't you dare use my assignment to dictate what happens here." She got up from her chair, and closed the distance between them in one swift step. Now she stood in front of Ressler, and fought for his eyes to focus on hers, "If I was in your position, you would never leave me behind."

He may not have expected that argument, but his sharp focus wasn't to be underestimated. He quickly shot back, "Yes, I would. I would follow the orders given to me."

"You're lying."

"Let's just end it here…let me remind you that you are MY back-up, and you follow MY lead. I've worked damn hard for damn too long to watch it all go down the drain, because of your…I don't even know what to call it…this strange entitlement you feel you have over me."

"Entitlement?"

"Liz, you are here to work, you have one assignment. Just focus on getting that done."

Liz was finally at loss for words. She was aware that Ressler had just called her out on her dogged persistence on having him leave this operation. He identified it as entitlement, but it wasn't the sense of entitlement that fueled her to disobey her orders, or to question her superiors. No, Ressler got it all wrong. It wasn't entitlement, alright...it was something else, something so vastly different. And in that stark realization, she was afraid to face her own heart, and admit it to herself. No, it can't be…how can it?

"Fine, Ress. But we're not done discussing this."

. . . . . . . .

The rest of the afternoon was spent with both doing what one can do to stay out of each other's air. Ressler took over the kitchen corner, reading mostly newspapers and books at the small table. Liz took the adjacent corner of the room, taking over the bed and watching the tiny antiquated T.V. on the dresser. She watched some news, then dabbled on to few cable channels. She took a quick glance at the alarm clock on the bed stand; it read 5:20 P.M.

This was getting ridiculous. How long are they going to…ignore each other, like they had some marital argument? She got that Ressler had expected her to simply follow the orders, and her protest and resistance was not what he had in mind to deal with. Perhaps he was regretting calling her out to the field. And she wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't setting up another plan in his mind that would minimize her involvement in the operation. In any case, they were stuck with each other…for now.

"So, what's there to do around here?" Liz got off the bed, and putting on a weak smile, sat on the chair in front of Ressler.

"You're looking at it."

"This can't be what you do all day."

"I'm on the job, Liz. I'm not here to enjoy myself." Somehow, she knew Ressler would say just that.

"So, what do you do in this room, while you wait for these guys to show up?"

"Prepping, getting ready…planning what to do." He was already back to his newspaper, "Look, I'm on the job. I'm not gonna hang out at some bar, if that's what you're thinking."

"Don't you feel a bit…suffocated in this small room?"

"Nope." Of course. Liz had expected him to say that.

"Ress, I get that you're on the job, but there's nothing wrong with venturing out of this room once in a while. Your guys know you live here. I'd think it's more strange if you were cooped up in here all day."

He didn't respond to her, but she knew he was listening. That's one thing she had come to respect about Ressler…he may not agree with everything she said, but he did listen to her, and impartially considered her opinions, always. No matter what others have said, Liz had never found Ressler to be proud…not with her, anyway.

"So, what would you like to do?" He folded the newspaper, and looked up at her with expectant eyes.

"I don't know…get a bite to eat, drink some cold beer."

"There's an old bar a mile ahead. Food is decent, beer is better."

. . . . . . .

As the truck pulled into the graveled parking lot, Liz could see that the bar was old, but it had a bit of a quaint, cheery feel to it. It was exactly what she would expect to find in an old sleepy town in the farming outskirts of Philadelphia. Ressler scanned the parking lot, perhaps even counting the number of cars, and parked the truck against the wooden fence.

He waited for her as she climbed out of the truck, and glanced at her white tank top and jeans, "It's starting to cool down a bit."

"Yeah, it's nice tonight."

They walked side by side on the rough gravel strewn about, and it was indeed a nice night. The moon was bright and full, and the light from the bar casted a warm glowing incandescence around the darkness surrounding it. The trees swayed gently at the faint wind rolling from the west, and Ressler was right; there was a lace of chill in the wind, and perhaps summer was slowly bowing its head.

Liz stole a look at Ressler, and he wore a certain tranquil and placid look on his face, that she was sure indicated…a good mood. This was a great idea, even if Ressler wouldn't give her credit for it. But she also knew of his concerns, that they were stepping out onto the "real world" and the uncertainty of what they may encounter. She understood fully well why he wanted to lay low. "So, were you here often?"

"No, just once."

"Would we see any of your friends here?"

"I don't think so. This isn't the type of places they go to. But you never know, so guards up."

"Right. So, maybe it's safe to play…Jake and Lily tonight." Liz then took Ressler's arm and held onto it against her body. He wasn't expecting that, and shirked in reflex, but she didn't let go, "Relax, and just go with it…Jake."

They walked into the bar with her hand firmly holding onto his arm, and he was now considerably more relaxed. His arm no longer tensed up under her touch, and even when she stroked the smooth muscles of his arm, Ressler didn't flinch nor seemed to care. She saw that he scanned the interior, but his eyes lingered upon her face for a slight moment before they returned to the waitress walking before them. They were shown to their table near the back of the bar, and Ressler pulled out a chair for Liz. Or, for Lily. She was sure that gesture was meant for the part they were playing…or was it?

They both ordered cheeseburgers, along with a pitcher of beer. And as the waitress walked away from their table, Liz looked around the bar. Most of the patrons skewed to older age, and the bar was considerably bustling for a week night. Some type of slow, soft rock music was playing in the background, and there were few couples out on the dance floor in front of the bar.

"I was here, maybe a month ago. Not a bad place for a quick bite." Ressler leaned toward her in a raised voice against the music.

"I like this place. They're locals, I'm assuming?"

"Seems like it."

"They look like a harmless bunch." But the knowledge of the Russian mob's presence in town was always gripping, "I do wonder what they know…or what they don't know."

"I wouldn't even assume they're harmless. And I would never assume what they don't know."

The waitress appeared and interrupted their hushed conversation with their plates of food, along with the pitcher of beer. They dove into their dinner, and as warm food and cold beer took effect in their bodies, Liz could sense that Ressler was becoming more relaxed and less guarded, less inhibited. Even herself, she felt more comfortable with him, if not, more playful and inquisitive.

"Do you miss home?" Liz inquired after a long swig of beer. Ressler's cheeks were rosy and glowing, and he appeared to smile at the sound of her voice.

"Not really. I guess I miss the finer living conditions…but that's something I could do without."

"You haven't seen your family for months."

"I don't have family." Ressler had finished his burger, and had also poured the last of the beer from the pitcher, "How about another?"

"Sure." He didn't want to talk about his family, and she wasn't going to push him. Not now, anyway.

Ressler motioned to the waitress for an order of pitcher, then turned to Liz, "How is everyone at the store?"

Liz chuckled lightly at his undercover label for the FBI office, "Everyone is fine. Aram is worried sick about you."

"Somehow, that's not comforting…or flattering."

"Don't hurt his feelings," she jested. "The store definitely feels different without you."

"How so?"

"You know, it feels…empty. Like the heart is missing…"

"What?"

"Nothing." Yes, what did she say just now? She felt her cheeks burn with heat, and she could only hope that Ressler would attribute this jibberish talk to alcohol in her blood. However, another pitcher of beer promptly arrived, and he poured her a glass to the full, and Liz readily took a long gulp of it. Oh, why the hell not.

"How are your cases?" Ressler leaned in with a hushed voice, after he poured beer into his own glass.

"Some are more eventful than others. I could use your help, though."

"Oh, you don't need my help. I'm sure you're managing perfectly without me."

"No, Ress…you are the best partner I could ever ask for."

"I could say the same about you." Liz was taken aback by Ressler being so…uninhibited with his words. It had to be the alcohol…it had to be. "Liz, you are the best part of my job. Oh hell, it's the beer talkin'…"

Ressler held her steady gaze a bit longer, then turned to watch the crowd of people out on the dance floor. Liz couldn't tear her eyes off of him, for the shock of his revelation hit her heart like a heavy boulder, and she caught her breath in a strange mix of trepidation and bliss. Like he said, it really had to be the beer talking…right?

"You know, I came very close to calling you. I figured you'd worry about me…and I didn't want you to do that." Ressler turned back to her, as if after a moment of thought, the beer had persuaded him to continue on the path of truth. And perhaps regret later, if he remembered it.

"I could never ask you to break protocol. It was unfair of me to throw a fit about it….I don't know why I was so emotional…"

"Liz, I want you to understand that it wasn't a simple decision. I didn't simply choose to keep to the protocol, like a robot, or a heartless bastard. No, I wanted to talk to you…to tell you everything. I struggled with it, up until when you showed up at the motel that night."

"Ress…"

"And I insisted that I didn't need back-up…because by chance, you might be assigned here. I couldn't risk that." Now the pitcher was empty, and the beer had been gladly disposed of. And Ressler was tapping his empty glass in an off-rhythm, with an uneasy restlessness that only unnerved Liz. "This case…there will be blood shed here. And if something were to happen to you…I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

As soon as the words escaped to their small space, Ressler looked away, turning yet again to the dance floor. Perhaps he regretted the utterance, swearing at the damn beer for causing him to spew out these words he didn't really mean. Or perhaps he regretted the bare honesty of his words, of which Liz believed to be true. And he couldn't bear to see her face, of whether she would reject it…or something else. And she chose something else.

"Let's dance. Come on, I think Jake and Lily would enjoy dancing." She got up from her chair, and grabbed Ressler's hand, attempting to pull him to his feet. But he didn't budge and gave a good resistance.

"No, I don't think Jake enjoys dancing…because he doesn't dance."

"EVERYBODY dances."

She laughed giddily as Ressler finally arose from his chair, but not without rolling his eyes in reluctance. But his lips parted into a warm smile, and he allowed her pull of his hand to guide him. They took several steps together, when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, causing her to halt in return. He squeezed her hand tight, giving her a jolt of alarm. "What's wrong?"

His eyes sharply focused on ahead, and Liz followed his gaze in confusion and dread. And she immediately locked eyes with the one, the cause of Ressler's sudden change of countenance.

It was Anton, and he was standing before them with two other men. He smiled at Liz, in a sickly sweetness that only hid the prickly thorns behind it.

"Well, hello, sweetheart. Heard you were coming into town, and what a pleasant surprise to see you here."

. . . . . . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading this story, especially this long chapter! Only 15 more days to go for the season 2 of THE BLACKLIST! Excited! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 7**

"And I've gotta give you credit for getting Jake out and about. Don't think I've seen him around in any of these parts, ever."

"Well, you know…he isn't the type to show up at the town social."

"No, he's not, sweetheart. No, he's not." Anton laughed heartily at her words, although Liz herself didn't think her comment would elicit that effusive of a response. But what was more peculiar was that his two accompanying men not only did not join in the laughter, but kept startlingly solemn gaze upon her.

"It is nice to see you enjoying yourself about with your girl," Anton turned to Ressler with a slight nod, "She's the prettiest one here, by far."

"That, she is." That was all Ressler said to him.

"So, when did you get into town, sweetheart?" Anton quickly returned the attention onto Liz, and no matter the toothy smile, that glint in his eye were not to be taken lightly.

"Yesterday."

"And how long are you plannin' to stay?"

"Oh, I don't know. Until I get bored."

"Bored, eh? There's plenty to do about around here, plenty to keep busy and occupied, all for pleasure."

"Don't tell me…never a dull moment?"

"Oh, it's a rip-roaring happenin' place. Just take a look around these locals…they're all bat crazy once that top button comes off." Anton let out another heap of laughter, at his own perceived wit. His guttural laughter showcased his crooked teeth, and his excited energy didn't match the solemn demeanor of the men around him, including Ressler. Liz laughed alongside like she was let into a company of an exclusive farce, and because Anton was scrutinizing her for a reaction.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that." She purred toward Anton's direction, "Nobody is what they seem, I guess."

"No, sweetheart…everybody always has somethin' up their sleeve. Be careful who you talk to out here, take my word for it." Anton's laughter lines remained on his face contorted to a forced smile, and his voice carried a certain dark and sickly tone. For the first time, Liz felt as though she was allowed a peek into the depth of his murderous and vile intent. Ressler was right about him, all of it.

Liz needed distance and air, and turned to Ressler, "So, you gonna dance with me or not?"

"Allow the lady a dance, Jake." Anton winked at Ressler and chided him, "Show off your pretty girl."

Ressler didn't say a word in response, but pulled Liz by the hand toward the dance floor. There were only few couples dancing as they took the center corner, in front of the live band. They weren't as inconspicuous as she would've liked, since they were the only young couple amongst the older few on the bare dance floor. As the slow song drifted in, Ressler pulled her by the waist and lead the dance. She placed her hands on his shoulders as she kept her furtive eyes on Anton and his men.

"Where are they?" Ressler pulled her closer so that her cheek was lightly grazing against his, and he whispered into her ear against the music.

"He's sitting at the bar. He's watching us." She whispered back to him, feeling the snugness of his hands fitted upon her waist. "Is he one of the main guys?"

"One of several. He's definitely one of the smarter ones. Don't ever let down your guards with him."

"I won't." She allowed Ressler to spin her around a half-circle to the beat of the song. He was surprisingly quite deft at dancing, especially as a man who professes to not dance. But this wasn't the time to focus on that. "Why don't we just arrest him, haul his ass back to DC, and make a deal with him to fess up? He's our man, I'm sure of it."

"Believe me, that thought has crossed my mind. But it's too soon, and he's not who I want."

"Too soon?"

"I need confirmation of sale transaction."

"And who's your other man?"

"I want his right hand man, Dover. They're brothers."

"Why do you want him?"

"Because he regulates communications and all the business dealings. But he's a coward. He's scared of Anton, and he wants protection."

Liz assumed that neither of Anton's men sitting with him was Dover. From across the dance floor, she could see that Anton had not lifted his eyes from them. "How long do you think he will stare at us?"

"Just look like you're enjoying yourself."

"I would like to see him locked up for life."

"If that thought brings you a smile, use it." Ressler chuckled lightly against her cheek, and his lips lightly teased her ear. She didn't mean to, but she leaned in to the touch of his lips, and was immediately embarrassed. She bit her lower lip, using that tingling pain to remind herself to focus upon the operation…and not this damn dance with Ressler. Damn him…and the way his arms cradled her body, holding her firm into his chest, and the softness of his cheek against her cheek, just as his hot breath curled against her ear. Damn him…

"Liz…?"

"Uh, what?"

"Did you hear me?"

"No, the music…"

Ressler cleared his throat before speaking, "I was saying…we should kiss, just so that Anton…what I mean is, no man will watch another man kiss a woman."

"That does make sense."

"And hopefully he'll leave, so we can get the hell outta here."

"Alright," Liz shifted her face to meet his eyes, "So, I guess…kiss away."

Ressler's eyes flickered an instant toward her lips, but he hesitated with his blue eyes focusing back onto hers, "Liz, just so that we're clear…this is strictly for the operation, it's understood that…"

"Jesus, Ress…you don't have to explain EVERYTHING. It's understood, as you have understood."

Then after a slight exhale, Ressler leaned into her lips, gliding his nose gently against her nose, and he kissed her lips. It was a soft and tender capture of her lips, and whereas her kiss to him four months ago was abrupt and forced, his kiss to her now was hesitant and almost bashful. His lips felt hot against her lips, and he suckled her lower lip before moving onto her upper lip. She kissed him back, and just like him, she felt as though restrained and nervous. And he kept the energy guarded, never once veering off to fervor, but holding her steady and his lips, careful and deliberate. It was as if he was resolute…to remain controlled and contained, and he held everything tightly reined in.

Liz felt his inhibited energy, and did not demand more. He did, after all, remind her that this was not a kiss, but an act of kissing for the sake of undercover. Of course, it was…just what was he thinking that he needed to remind her? This was as sterile and meaningless as they come. Absolutely for business and professional purposes, and never to be discussed…or thought about…ever again.

Except for the small detail of her hand, which in her unaware, found its way to the nape of his neck and was caressing his soft blond hair. She may also have been grasping the nape to guide his lips, pushing him toward her, closer to her. And she may have been pressing her body into his body, holding onto his shoulder to find anchor and balance, as her legs felt like they have turned to mush. He kissed her softly and slowly, with every pull of her lip languid, and under normal circumstances, she would've melted utterly and helplessly. And as he pulled away, she may have grumbled and protested, just a little at first, but who knows where that would lead to. And as he lifted his lips from her lips, she may have wanted more…more of Jake, or Ressler…or whoever was kissing her at the moment. Just more of his soft lips, and his hot breath, and the kiss…

His full lips lingered in their small space when, with oblivious abandon and pull of desire, Liz leaned in to kiss him again. But he went for her ear and whispered, "Is he still watching?"

"Uh, what?"

"Anton…is he still watching us?"

Damn…he was done. His words were like cold water thrown at her way, recklessly and haphazardly putting out the heat that swelled deep within her. She could already feel Ressler was releasing her, and she bumbled to find proper footing on her own with no one to lean on. After finding firm ground under her two feet, she blinked to focus on the whereabouts of the man in question. "No…and it looks like he's leaving."

Indeed, Anton had paid his tab and got off the bar stool. He motioned his accompanying men, and they proceeded to walk toward the door of the bar, without a second look at them. Ressler spun her around, so he could take a look himself, "Good. Let's wait a few minutes, and then leave."

"Let's leave at the end of the song."

Now that they were left alone, with not an eye to please or pretend, Ressler loosened his grip of her waist, as expectedly so. Their kiss was now altogether forgotten of, and was never to be spoken of again. And he gave her considerable space, as if obeying some rules of propriety and manners, or more likely a code of conduct between two undercovers. Now the dance became an act of business, a mere game of waiting. Liz understood this about Ressler very well, perhaps a bit more than she'd like. He could've enjoyed this, even just a little bit. Why can't Ressler and Liz…just two people, never mind everything else…enjoy this simple dance?

They walked out of the bar as soon as the song was over, mixing in with a throng of people who were leaving the place. Ressler placed his hand on her back as he lead her out the door, and Liz was certain it was her he was guiding, and not Lily. This was new…definitely new.

"I don't like it." He blurted out under his breath as they neared the car. "Anton being here…that wasn't by chance. It's not his style."

"Do you think he has you followed?"

"Wouldn't be surprised." Ressler held the keys to the truck in his hand, but looked around the lot with obvious scrutiny, "Hey, let's walk back to the motel. It's only about three blocks."

"You feeling a little tipsy? I could drive."

"Nah, I'm fine. That was nothin'." So it wasn't the beer talking during the evening, although he claimed it was…

"Ress, what's bothering you?"

"I just…have this feeling. Come on."

"What about the truck?"

"I'll say I left it because I was drunk. Don't think it'd be a problem."

As they walked out of the parking lot and headed down the road, all Liz could see was the sea of stars sparkling in the blackest night she had ever been in. There was not a street lamp for another block, and not a car coming or going in this long silent road, save for the sound of their rough footsteps upon the graveled road. The gentle breeze had picked up considerable chill as the night wore on, and the row of trees swayed to its rhythm like a band of merry goers. The moon was in its thin sliver above them, casting an eerie grey upon the empty field yonder, withholding all the terrible secrets lurking in the darkness.

"It's too quiet." Liz spoke with a shudder, "Can't imagine living here for the rest of my life."

"It's not your cup of tea, eh?"

"No, I need sounds…and the bustle of living, the noise, the lights."

"You are a city girl." Ressler chuckled lightly, "I had always thought that'd be you."

"How about you? You OK with this?" She bumped his shoulder playfully, but his eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

"I don't know. I'm a simple guy, Liz. I'm not particular about much." He turned back to scan the road behind, but there was not a soul stirring about as far as Liz could see.

"So, what are you particular about, Ress? What do you need in your life to be happy?"

"Let's see…a roof over my head, warm food, cold beer, time left alone to watch some football…that's about it."

"What…no family? No good woman to love?" Liz feigned a chuckle, but she couldn't explain a slight crack in her voice and the breathless anticipation that filled her heart, as if his response to her question in any way would matter to her. It didn't, and it shouldn't. It was almost…none of her business.

"Oh, Jesus…a good woman, huh?" He drifted off into expected silence, and she wouldn't be surprised if he dropped the subject all together. But surprisingly, he didn't. "I'm not sure if I'm deserving of that good graces."

"Be careful, Ress. You're starting to sound like the locals."

"Oh, hell…" Ressler let out a deep growl of a laughter, "That's it…there's no hope for me."

"Who knows, some might find it charming."

"Me, charming? Hardly. Most women find me…rigid, uptight, inflexible…"

"Moody…"

"That, too."

"Brutish…pigheaded…"

"Alright, that's enough."

They shared an easy laughter, and somewhere far beyond the blackness, a crow called out to them in curiosity. They walked in silence as their laughter wore off, and their only company was the steady sound of their footsteps. Liz was suddenly aware that she was alone with Ressler, walking towards god knows where, in the darkness of the deepest mystery. With not another soul seen, they were so utterly alone…so utterly together in this night of starry walk, in the most beautiful silence and enchanting stillness. The darkened unseen ahead was no longer an apparition to be feared, but they became a serene company, of which they will pass through together. She didn't dare to admit it, but this night, this walk, was almost…romantic.

"But, I know your secret, Ress. I know what you're hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Underneath this hardened persona, you're…you're a good man."

"You sure about that?"

Liz bumped into his shoulder again in playful jest, "Ress, I know you. You're…honorable, loyal, kind…"

"Liz, please, keep it down…I have a reputation to uphold."

"You're the only one good, decent man in my life, and there's no one I trust more than you."

Ressler did not say a word to her in response, and she knew he wouldn't. Underneath the pretense, Liz knew he agreed with the truth of her words, and there were no more sentiments to add. And now he knew she trusted him, and that's all that mattered to her.

"Liz, if you trust me…you need to trust me on this operation."

"Ress…"

"They're on to something. Seeing Anton tonight…he was there for a reason."

"Assuming that he has you followed, then we just have to play it right."

"That's the easy part. There's something else, something more…damn, that bastard."

"Well, it doesn't seem like we're being tailed tonight…not in this pitch darkness, anyway."

Ressler turned to scan the road behind them, but there was nothing to be seen. "He may very well be waiting for me at the motel."

"Perhaps this is the precaution they take before taking someone in. Given the intel they're protecting, this measure of security does make sense."

"Perhaps."

He walked on without a word, and Liz was willing to bet that a deep furrow had settled on his forehead as he dug deep in assessment of the situation. It was frustrating her to no end that he held this stubborn plan to the operation, when it could be as simple as nabbing this Dover guy, and transporting him to DC for questioning. She was sure that Cooper would offer him a deal and the protection, and that would be the end to this long, aggravating operation. But it wasn't good enough for Ressler, and this was surprising from a person who sought neither the glory nor the greed.

"Hey, um…are you comfortable, at the motel? Is there anything you need?" Ressler's gentle voice broke through her thoughts.

"No…I'm good."

Ressler then pointed to the source of faint light at the end of the block, "There's a small market up the road, if you want to pick up something."

"Maybe just some beer."

"You got it."

As they neared the yellow neon signs of Philly's Market, the entire scene unfolding became eerily familiar to Liz, as if somehow she's been there before. She examined the area, with the lone street light above, the shallow wooden fences lining up the street, and the row of tall pine trees. Yes…she had definitely seen this place before.

"How odd…"

"What is?"

"It feels like I've been here before. Or at least, seen it before."

She looked around the place once more, and this time, she spotted an old public telephone booth by the far edge of the market. It was then that she remembered…this was the place that Ressler had made his phone calls, and the very images that Aram captured after he hacked into Red's phone.

"You know, Liz…you never told me how you found me." Damn him…how does he manage to read her mind so often? "I'm just curious. Come on, amuse me a little."

"Well, you'd need to use your feminine wiles."

"Don't tell me…Red?" Ressler let out a satisfied chuckle, "Somehow I knew Red would be involved in this."

"I stole his cell phone, and Aram hacked into it. He found an incoming call from a public phone, and after some video access…voila."

"Wait…you actually saw me in a video footage, by that phone booth, here?"

"And then we traced your movement back to the motel."

"Unbelievable." Ressler shook his head, but a wide grin was intact, "And Cooper has no idea you were here?"

"No…"

"That's a lot of trouble you went through…to check if I needed back-up." She didn't like where he was going with this. "I find it hard to believe that you would…I mean, why wouldn't you believe Cooper's word that I didn't need back-up?"

"Because it's protocol to have back-up in the field…"

"Oh, not that again. That damn protocol…you're foolin' no one with that."

"What are you saying, Ress? What other reason is there?"

"I don't know…you tell me."

By the glow casted by the brightly lit market, Liz could finally see Ressler's face clearly, and he was looking back at her with one of his…interrogative scrutiny. And it wasn't that she was at loss for words; she couldn't explain, even to herself, why she chose to risk so much to come see him. All she was certain of…was that it wasn't her head that propelled that decision, but it was…her heart. But he wasn't going to be privy to that intimate detail, never and never.

"Ress…I just wanted to see if you were OK." She regretted those words as soon as they escaped her lips. Why did she say those words? Why add fuel to the fire?

"Liz, it still doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't you believe Cooper, or Red, even? I'm sure they told you I was alright."

"Ress…"

"What are you not telling me? What are you afraid of?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that, as your partner, it was only an expected duty to make sure you were alright, out in the field?"

Ressler's blue eyes widened at her direction, "Expected duty? I don't believe it…you're reading from the Feds manual again."

"Whether you believe it or not, that was all there was to it."

"Liz…whatever it is, you can tell me when you're ready."

He held the door open for her, and she entered the small market, with Ressler following close behind. Liz was already plenty unnerved by their conversation, and she could still sense his continuing scrutiny searing from behind. Just what exactly did he want to hear? And why was he challenging her every word, as if he didn't believe any of it? It looked as though Ressler had his own firm belief on what was going on in her mind, and he didn't want to hear anything else. Just what the hell was he thinking in that head of his?

Ressler went for the beer in the fridge, while Liz mindlessly walked along the snacks aisle. The young lone cashier looked up from the counter, and he smiled at her unassumingly. There were two others in the market, having a hushed conversation by the pharmaceutical products. She went back to her aimless jaunt, now along the cereal aisle, when suddenly she felt the presence of eyes upon her. She looked up quickly to the source of that alarm…and it was Ressler. He was…staring at her. It may have been that he was watching out for her, as he often does. But this time, she was certain he was…staring. And when she caught his eyes, he swiftly looked away, with his eyes turning back to the case of beer in his hand.

In a short moment, Ressler was by her side, "You ready?"

"Yup."

"You want anything else?"

She handed him a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, "These are stinkin' good."

Ressler paid for the beer and the pretzels, and soon they were back on the darkness trail again. "We have one more block to go. You OK?"

"Yeah, this is a nice walk. I'm glad we did this."

"Yeah…me, too."

They walked few more steps in quiet air, until Ressler broke through in a hushed voice, "Liz…I know we talked about this already, and it probably doesn't need to be talked about again…but I just want to make sure we have an understanding, between us."

"About what?"

"That…when we…I mean, given that we're in an undercover op, and we are forced to…"

"Ress, what are you talking about?" With a strange quivering voice, Ressler was downright stammering, and this was a rare picture of incoherence that didn't surface often. Given his usual direct and blunt dealings with her, his hesitation at this moment was quite alarming.

"OK, let me just be…direct."

"Yes, be your usual self…not that I endorse it."

"Funny…" Ressler feigned a muted chuckle, "What I'm trying to say is that…given the circumstances when we have to act intimate…"

"You mean, when we…kiss?"

"Yes…when we kiss, and such. It's understood that it's for the sake of the operation, for the strict purpose of the mission, and…"

"Ressler, as I said before, it is understood that it's strictly business. What happens in undercover, stays in undercover."

He paused a slight before responding to her, "I know it's understood. Liz, I want you to trust me…that I won't use such…ahem, funny business…unless the circumstances absolutely warranted it."

"No need to speak of it. I trust you, Ress."

"And how about you? Are you gonna pull any funny business?"

Ressler was now playing with her, and she couldn't help but to laugh, "No, absolutely not."

"You sure about that? Because it's gonna be tough, you know. With my smooth charm and good looks, I'm damn irresistible."

"Oh, there's no chance. I promise you that I won't fall madly in love with you."

Perhaps she shouldn't have said that, even in jest. She threw a quick glance at his way, expecting…or more like, hoping….that he will give a sharp retort with his typical acerbic humor, but he remained alarmingly silent. She focused back upon the road ahead, afraid that if his eyes met hers, she would feel compelled to explain herself. And at this moment, it was best if she kept her lips tightly closed, for she didn't know what other regrettable words would come to surface in skittish panic. She just needed him to…say something, anything. Just what the hell was he thinking about?

"That is the rule number one…no lovin' during undercover." His voice cracked a slight, but Liz had never been more relieved to hear it. "Or shall I say…only fake lovin' during undercover."

She laughed alongside of him, and she knew he had resorted to humor for her sake, to ease her anxiety over her awkward remark. She had always appreciated that side of him, of his…she didn't even know what to call it, perhaps certain gentlemanly manners…that when he sensed her discomfort, he'd never failed to ease, or rescue, her with lighthearted humor. Even during their oft arguments and bickering, he has yet to abandon her and leave her be in defeat.

They walked silently for the duration of the block, until they had finally arrived at the motel. Ressler scanned the area furtively, and as usual, there was not a soul spotted and not a sound heard. He unlocked the door of the room, and held it open for Liz to walk through. The room wasn't as heated and musty as the previous night, and as he turned on the lights of their tiny space, she couldn't help but to feel as though she had come…home.

"Do you…umm, want a beer?" Ressler glanced at her on his way to the kitchen nook, just as she sat on the bed to take off her shoes.

"In a little bit…I'm gonna take a shower first."

She grabbed some fresh clothes from her luggage bag laid on the floor, then got up to head to the bathroom, when most abruptly, she bumped into Ressler walking straight on. He grabbed her arms in reflex, just as she held onto his arms to steady herself.

"Sorry…this damn small room…" He muttered, in a bit of unexpected and surprising timidity, that caused her to blush for reasons unknown to her.

"It was…bound to happen."

"You OK?"

"Yeah…"

Ressler let go of his hold of her arms, and picked up the clothes she had dropped onto the floor. He handed her the clothes, with the unusual nervous air still intact.

"Thanks. I'm gonna just…" Liz grabbed the clothes from his hand, and in a fit of stammer, pointed toward the direction of the bathroom. Then, without a moment's loss, she quickly scurried into the bathroom, and closed the door securely behind her. She looked at the reflection of her face on the tiny mirror, and cringed at the sight of her blushing cheeks, reddened with hardly an admissible reason. And why she was thrown into a fit of stammer just now, she couldn't justify that either. None of her skittish behavior, and certainly not the rampant beating of her heart, made sense to her. This was getting downright ridiculous and maddening. And the only semblance she could gather, however mortifying, was that she was acting like some school girl who was at a sleep-over with her boy crush.

. . . . . . . .

When Liz stepped out of the bathroom after a long shower, the only sound she could hear was low rumblings emanating from the small T.V. set. She took a few tentative steps on the hallway, and peeking around the corner, she spotted Ressler sitting on the bed, watching some old movie. Or rather, she spotted his sleeping figure. He was already deep in slumber, with half a bag of the pretzels and an empty can of beer on the bed stand.

Liz took a closer look at him, and saw his face in peaceful rest, as his body snuggly and comfortably fitted onto the pillows. She couldn't help but to smile at the sight of his merrily dozing face, which appeared to resemble a little boy sleeping after a fitful day at school. There was no way she was going to interrupt this rest, and most certainly not for the purpose of kicking him off the bed and ushering him to the welcoming floor.

It was instantly decided that she would sleep on the floor that night, and she unrolled the blanket onto the carpet. She turned off the T.V. and the lights, and just as her head hit the pillow, she recognized his scent around her. And that was the last sensation of the consciousness before she, herself, ventured deep into the slumbering unconsciousness.

. . . . . . .

Ressler was still sleeping when Liz woke up, and she was pleased to see that during some time in the night, he had shifted his body to lie comfortably on the bed. She glanced at the wall clock, and it read 8:20 AM. She got up with not a sound and made her way to the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth.

She didn't take long in the bathroom, and when she opened the door quietly, she was startled to see Ressler facing her from the other side. She may have gasped at the sudden sight of him.

"Ress…"

"Uh, sorry…didn't mean to startle you."

"That's OK…"

She had expected him to move to let her pass by, but in the most peculiar air, he didn't budge.

"Liz…did you sleep on the floor last night?"

"Yeah…you were sleeping on the bed, so…"

"You should've woken me."

"Ress, it's not a big deal." She had figured he would be regretful, but it truly was no big deal. She pushed his chest playfully, and walked past him down the hallway. Ressler followed her close behind.

"Damn it, Liz…"

"Calm down, Ress. It was no big deal." She was starting to find this situation, and the supposed argument, a bit comical. Perhaps she shouldn't have, but she couldn't help the light snicker that escaped her lips.

"Liz…why is it hard for you to understand…" But Ressler didn't find anything amusing about the circumstances, and he was not going to mask his agitated tone. "You really should've woken me."

"For Christ's sake…Ress, I'm not some wilting flower. I'm perfectly fine sleeping on the floor."

"Liz, I swear, sometimes you could be so…"

"What I don't understand is, why are we arguing about this?" She stood facing him, wanting an explanation to his curiously unyielding stance, for a subject absolutely not worthy of this treatment.

"Liz…there's no way in hell I'm going to be OK with you sleeping on the floor, when I'm…"

"Ress…believe me, I have slept plenty of times on the floor, and this time was no different. I didn't mind it, so just drop it."

"You don't get it…"

"Ress, of all the things to argue about…this is definitely not one of them."

"Oh, forget it." He must've sensed Liz wanted none of it, and with a flustered huff, grabbed his baseball cap perched on the chair. "I'm gonna go get the car. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No."

And that was all he said as he put the cap on his head, and rushed out of the motel room, slamming the door behind him with an obvious hint of anger. She couldn't believe what she had just seen…this bizarre over-reaction to what? Her sleeping on the floor?

Liz held the curtains drawn as she peeked out of the window, watching Ressler walk out of the motel gate and onto the street. His long blond hair was flapping from under the baseball cap, and more so as he took large bounding steps, laced with irritated and fiery energy. She shook her head at this sudden…bullish and dare she say, unhinged macho behavior.

Just what the hell was his problem?

. . . . . . . . .

**A/N: In about 3 hours, I will be watching the 2****nd**** season premiere of THE BLACKLIST! I'm so excited, and can't believe it! Last June, it really felt like September was A WORLD AWAY, but it's here…!**

**I've been reading up on loads of interviews and spoilers…and I'm so utterly happy to report that Keensler will be in full swing this season. YAYYY…MY ONE TRUE PAIRING. I missed Red, OF COURSE, but come on…I MISSED RESSLER! Who's with me?!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 8**

"Hey."

That was all Ressler said as he entered the motel room, some thirty minutes after he left it. Liz was tidying up the small space, keeping her mind busy as she grappled in befuddlement over just what went on earlier in the morning. It was beyond tempting to just duke it out with him, shaking out some answers from him, physically if needed. This room was already suffocating as it was…and she certainly didn't need his peculiar petulance and mystifying hang-ups to add on to the heat.

"I grabbed some breakfast for us."

"OK…I made some coffee."

He dropped a brown paper bag on the kitchen table, "I'm gonna take a shower."

She eyed him walking to the bathroom without a second look to her, and she knew he was still very much cross…over what, she'd be damned to know.

"Sometimes, I just don't GET you…oh, the hell with it," she muttered to herself as she opened the paper bag. In it, she found two covered plates of large egg omelets, bacon strips, and hashed potatoes. "Every hungry man's fantasy."

Liz set the plates on the table, with the utensils neatly lined up and the napkins perfectly folded. She retrieved two mugs from the cupboard, and poured steaming coffee into them. She looked over the layout of her creation, and softly snickered, "This looks strangely…domesticated."

"Excuse me."

The gruff voice behind her startled her, and she turned to face Ressler, who had just come out of the bathroom, without a shirt and blond hair sopping wet. His eyes fixed on ahead told that he wanted to pass by, and she obliged him by inching closer to the narrow hallway wall. He didn't say another word as he walked past her, heading toward the dresser to grab a t-shirt, of which he roughly pulled over his head.

Liz refused to be unnerved by his dour and surly behavior, and she herself was in no mood to talk as she made her way to the kitchen table. She sat down on the chair and grabbed a fork, only to look up to find Ressler grabbing the coffee mug and sitting opposite her. She looked at his face, which was surprisingly placid, and something about this entire situation boiled her. Perhaps it was the way he was sipping the coffee, so casually and thanklessly…it was her who made the damn coffee, damn it.

"Look, Ress…I don't know what the hell…"

"I was followed."

"Uh, what?" There was no doubt he knew what she wanted to talk about, but he dismissed it, and she was now too distracted to stand firm.

"I was followed, this morning."

"You sure?"

"Afraid so." He took a large heaping of the omelet into his mouth, and chewed his food with much gusto and vigor, but Liz could plainly see by the furrowed brows that he was singularly alarmed by the confirmation of his suspicions.

"It really could be just for security reasons, a protocol even."

"Or they are on to something. They're suspicious of me."

"How many men did you see?"

"Two, in a car. I imagine this room is also staked out." His gaze into her eyes suddenly, and quite ominously, changed to an intense probe, "You stayed in here while I was gone, right?"

"Yes, of course. Where would I go?"

"Good. Don't ever leave this room without telling me."

"I won't."

Ressler had now unceremoniously dropped his fork on the table, and he pushed away his plate of half eaten food with a certain air of displeasure. He was done with his food, and frankly so was she. The gravity of their conversation, and the imminent dread that had reared, had left the omelet in her mouth completely tasteless, and it was a burden just to chew the rest of it.

"Ress…I agree with you that something is not right. So, let's not wait for these guys. I say, if you think Dover is our guy, we nab him and haul his ass to DC. We offer him plenty of everything he wants, retrieve intel, and close this case. It could be as simple as that."

His sharp eyes upon her indicated that he was listening, and for once, was considering her plea. He had his intricate ideas upon the case, but it perturbed him to no end that now there were men, watching them. She had to take the opportunity, "We can't stay here, like sitting ducks, waiting for them to call the shots. If they're on to something, then we are already out of time."

He wiped his mouth with his hand, with an anxious deliberation, "Fine…we may have to resort to your plan."

"Then, let's call it in. Contact Cooper, have him arrange the transport."

"It's gonna have to wait until late tonight."

"Alright…then, let's stake out Dover. Where the hell is he?"

"That's the thing…I have no idea." He drank the last of his coffee, and by the irritated force of his hand upon the cup, it was obvious that he craved a drink with far more punch, "That bastard is hardly seen, must be holed up somewhere like some scared weasel."

"Well, without Dover…our plan is shot."

"Unless we stick to the original plan…wait for two days, until they come and take me to their meeting place. And I plant the communication devices and…"

"No, absolutely not. I'm not going to hand you over to them…god knows what they'll do to you."

"Jesus Christ…here we go, again." Ressler got up with a forcible push upon the chair and picked up his plate, of which he abruptly threw into the trash can, "You need to stop this…it's getting damn tiring."

"Stop what?"

"Don't give me that. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"What…"

"You're trying to protect me."

Ressler's eyes suddenly rested upon hers with a shadowy film of softness…or uneasiness. Liz wasn't sure, but it also could've been of certain bashfulness. Of course, she was trying to protect him…he must've known that from the first moment he laid his eyes upon her at the motel door step. That much was obvious…and understood, without having to say so. But when Ressler uttered those unspoken words, along with the unspoken sentiments, she knew he took the risk…of not only challenging her, but also to confront something of far more mysterious and hidden. And at that moment, she was feeling too heated to pretend any of it.

"Ok, fine…not that there's anything wrong with it."

"Look, Liz…I don't need your protection."

"That's what partners do…protect each other."

"You're reading from the Feds manual again."

Now it was Liz who forcibly pushed back her chair and, with an angry huff, stood up to face Ressler. He had a shoulder leaned against the wall, but as Liz took a step closer to him, he stood up tall and straight to face her. "Ress, you're in way over your head with this case, and you know it. You no longer make objective decisions…and you lack common sense."

"Common sense…my ass." He hissed at her, now just an inch away from her face, "And it's funny how you mention objective decisions…when you are incapable of making one yourself."

"What the hell…"

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Fine, just lay it all out. Go on, tell me how right you are, and how wrong I am."

"No, for once this isn't about who's right or wrong." Ressler's eyes squinted in muffled frustration, and he sneered at her, as if he was reining in some choice words for her. But she was not afraid of him…not one bit. Rather, she was keenly aware of his close proximity, as the soft curls of his breath teased her face, and she could see the sparkling tints outlining the deep teal blue of his eyes. And she couldn't help it…no, she really couldn't…as her eyes trailed off from his eyes, down to his flaring nose…to his lips.

At that moment, Ressler must've also sensed his close stance, and he took a slight step back. But his eyes never left hers in a daring focus, "Liz…you have compromised…"

"What?"

"You have compromised feelings towards this case."

"Feelings? For this case? Just what the hell does that suppose to mean?"

Her impetuous response did nothing to quell his already brewing indignation, and it looked as though he had foregone all control, "Fine…I should've said, you have compromised feelings towards me."

Liz heard those words, yes. But they made no sense to her, as if her mental faculties had veered off to a foreign dimension, where those words took on another meaning all together. And in her stupor silence, Ressler was merciless, "And that makes you an unreliable component to this mission, and by regulations, I would recommend that you be exempted…immediately."

He must've felt the stifling heat, as much as she did, and he walked to the window and peeked to the outside with the curtains tightly clenched in his hand. Liz simply stared at the back of his head, still in a haze. Ressler turned around slowly, and met her eyes, "I'm sorry, Liz…but I will be reporting to Cooper tonight. And I will be recommending that you…leave."

"Did you…did you just say that I have compromised feelings, towards you?"

"That is what I said, yes."

"Just what do you mean by compromised feelings? I don't understand what you mean by it, and I think I deserve some explanation, at least before I get shipped off without a second thought. Or heaven forbid, an actual discussion."

"Liz…"

"Ress, you know what your problem is?"

"Amongst the many, which one would you like to pick on?"

Now he was challenging her, but he had no idea what was coming. Liz closed in the distance between them, and stood squarely in front of him, "Your threat assessment is off, you can't recourse from plan A, and you have magnified estimation of your own abilities. All the while, your reliance on your instincts is doggedly unrelenting, to the point where you dismiss any dissenting argument."

"That's…that's great…"

"Wait, I'm not done. And your read on emotions is completely and unequivocally unsubstantiated."

"Anything else?"

"And you're stubborn as hell."

Ressler's unaffected stare only fueled the heat inside of her, and when he took a step away from her, she felt compelled, beyond control, to grab his arm, "One more thing…speaking of compromised feelings, you are just as red handed."

He pulled his arm from her grasp without a blink, "Now I know…your emotional assessment is just as poor as mine."

"You have compromised feelings for this case. You have attached emotions to it, as if its outcome is in any way an indication of personal measurement. You are invested far too deep, and it's messing up your head."

"Fine, I'll give you that. It is possible that I've…attached certain personal goals to this mission." Ressler nodded slowly, but his eyes were just as icy as the blue of a frozen lake. "How about you, Liz? How would you explain your compromised feelings? It ain't for the mission, that much is obvious."

"I don't have compromised feelings." She felt her hands clammy with sweat, and her heart was pounding like wild drum beats. She knew she was lying…but she wasn't about to fess up to anything hidden in her heart. Worse, she wasn't about to tell him that he was right…about her and about everything. Especially after insisting that his read on her emotions is completely fallible, when in fact, he was usually precise.

"Liz…I know when you're lying to me." Ressler took a careful step closer to her, "Look, you can be honest with me. Try me for once…you can trust me."

"Honest about what?"

"Honest about…your compromised feelings towards me."

Ressler held her gaze firmly, but it wasn't scrutiny or demand that she saw in his eyes. It was something else...of certain mystery…of intangible emotions and longings. And if she dared to speak of it, she would admit that his eyes spoke of gentleness, timidity, and…perhaps even a shade of ardor. But now wasn't the time to fall under that spell, and she resolutely refused his tender efforts. She couldn't back down now…not now, anyway.

"Well, you seem to know more about me than I do. How would YOU explain my compromised feelings…towards you, as you say."

He dropped his eyes to the ground for a moment. He must've realized that she wasn't going to give him anything. He spoke slowly and deliberately, "Honestly…I don't know."

She didn't say another word to him, but only wanted his last words of mystery be the final sentiment between them. But he wasn't done, "But I know this. You were assigned to this case with the mission of assisting me, but you came here under a very different agenda. Your presence here represents two conflicting goals."

"Well, as you've said…you are the lead, and I'm the back-up. As you see fit, you can request that I be exited from this case."

Ressler's eyes focused sharply back onto hers, as if he couldn't believe what had been said just now. Her words were a mere reflection of his insistence, but the faint startle of his eyes made her regret the words said. Just what the hell did he want from her?

"Yeah, well…I was gonna call Cooper tonight, in any case."

And that would be the end of that. Liz turned away from Ressler, and walked back to her plate of food on the kitchen table. By now it was as cold as a dead turkey, and just as unappealing. She picked up the plate and threw into the trash can, as well as dumping her cold coffee into the kitchen sink. She knew it was early, but she could really use a drink right about now.

"Hey, let's get out of here." Ressler's voice was meek behind her, as he came and stood leaning against the kitchen table.

"Where to?" Liz didn't look at him as she wiped the table with a wet towel.

"I thought we could go scope out for Dover. Sometimes he eats at this diner in the downtown area."

"This place has a downtown area?"

"Well, you know…it's as tiny as the palm of my hand, but there are places to eat. May be we could even grab lunch there."

"And why do we need to scope out for Dover? I thought you're gonna stick to your original plan…"

"Well, just…I just want to see what he's up to. See what happens."

. . . . . . .

They didn't speak a word to each other during the entire car ride to the downtown area in the eastern corner of the city. Liz was exhausted from their argument, and she was in no mood to entertain him with useless words. He must've felt the same as he drove with his lips tightly shut in a stubborn dour.

It was still surreal to think that she could be headed back to DC, as early as next morning. She didn't think Ressler would really pull her out, but at the same time, she wouldn't be surprised one bit. He was right about her having conflicting goals for this mission. She didn't care about the case…she only cared about Ressler, and she came out there, only for him. Damn it, how he came to know this, she had no idea.

But she was done discussing it with him, and having him repeatedly corner her into admitting that she had compromised feelings towards him. Well, of course she did…did he really need her to admit to the obvious? Yes, she had compromised feelings for him, and that was the only fuel that sustained her there. Call it compromised…or whatever operative word he may want to attach to it…but there were feelings. Yes, feelings…she had feelings towards Ressler…

"Liz?"

"Huh?" His words were louder than necessary in her daze, and she shook her head to focus on the present.

"We're here."

Deep in her thoughts, she was unaware that Ressler had parked the truck on the street, in front of a small deli. She climbed out of the truck, and took a look around the supposed downtown. He wasn't kidding when he said it was as tiny as his hand. The place was…well, small and shabby. Along the main street, she was able to make out an old movie theater, just as old hardware store, couple of restaurants, and a barber shop. It was close to noon, and the streets were surprisingly bustling, possibly with the lunch crowd.

"Yup, there's no hidden magic. This is it." Ressler whispered to her as they walked on the street strewn with fallen tree leaves.

"It's not…that bad."

"That's a lot, coming from a city girl."

"And you're surprisingly critical, coming from one who isn't particular about much."

"I knew when I said that to you, it was gonna come back to bite my ass." Ressler's lips parted into a thin smile, and that was a welcoming sight after their intense conversation in the morning. She couldn't help but to smile back at him.

"Well, how could you expect anything less?"

They walked quietly for about half a block, with both of them furtively scanning the area. Liz wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. They were all same kind of folks, wearing their beloved flannels and drab coats.

"See anything?" Liz leaned in to Ressler and whispered at his side.

"No, nothing yet. Let's walk around some more."

She nodded to him just as he turned his eyes upon her, but couldn't help the small shudder as the newly arriving gust of fall wind had a mean chill laced in it. She had only worn a t-shirt, having underestimated the cruel and sudden changing of seasons.

"Are you alright?" Ressler leaned in to her, while placing his hand tenderly on her back, "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing…it's just little chilly, that's all."

He kept his eyes on her, enough to make her feel conscious of its focused gaze. He then started to unbutton his flannel shirt, "Here, take this."

"No, it's OK…really."

But he wasn't listening. He quickly took off the flannel shirt, revealing a grey t-shirt underneath, "Just take it."

He held out the flannel shirt to her, and she took it with a heave of reluctance, "What about you? You OK with the chill?"

"What? Am I OK with the chill? Not only am I OK with it, but I have conquered it. Come on, I'm a man."

"Oh, Jesus…" Liz put on the shirt grudgingly, "Can't believe I'm about to give you the satisfaction."

"You are a wise woman, to heed to the wise man."

"Oh, shut up."

Liz wrapped the shirt tightly to her body against the chill, and the faint aroma of Ressler's after-shave teasingly wafted in the air around her. She inhaled deeply, also detecting a hint of fresh laundry and his particular muskiness that was so familiar to her. All at once, the softness of the shirt and the sensation of the warm aroma carried her, herself not knowing why she felt…safe and protected at the moment. And her emotions swelled deep in her, of what she could only identify as falling in young and careless love. She turned her face to seek his eyes, but he was focused on the street ahead…a bit too intensely.

"Damn, I don't believe it." His eyes squinted in sharp alignment, and the gruff alarm in his voice disrupted her out of her sweltering reverie.

"What is it?"

"Dover…he's here."

"Where?"

Ressler slowed his pace, and pulled her against the wall, behind a gaunt elm tree. She followed the deathly gaze of his eyes to the three men a half block away, engaged in a huddle of conversation in front of a small diner. "Which one is he?"

"He's the one with the green jacket."

Liz studied the man in focus, who was younger than she had expected from the company he kept. She also questioned Ressler's assessment of Dover, of he being a scared weasel, seeing that he was a rather attractive man with an easy and confident pose. At glance, she wouldn't have taken him to be holed up somewhere, fearful of his life and wanting protection.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go." She was about to take a step forward when Ressler grabbed her arm.

"Wait…just don't do anything stupid."

"Thanks, Ress…your confidence in me is touching."

"You know what I mean. Follow my lead…and don't go all rogue on me."

"Rogue?"

"Liz, I know when that head of yours is wheeling with ideas…no matter how you see fit, stick to my lead."

"Oh, jesus…"

Ressler kept his hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street and briskly walked toward the men, who looked to be far from hurry to leave. As they neared the hushed conversation, it was Dover who first recognized Ressler and called him with a slight wave of the hand.

"Hey, Jake…surprised to see you out, man."

"I could say the same about you, Dover."

The three men parted their small circle to include Ressler, but they were obviously scrutinizing over Liz, eyeing her with a mixture of interest and distrust. She simply smiled at the men, and clung on to Ressler's arm.

"I heard your lady was in town, this must be her." Dover smiled warmly at her, "My name is Dover, this here is Augustin and Thomas. Welcome to our little town."

"Thank you, and nice to meet you all." She nodded sweetly at the men and brushed her soft brunette hair in a languid motion. The men seemed entranced, as she had expected, and she could feel Dover gazing at her figure with an obvious admiration. Up close, he was indeed a handsome looking man, with fair complexion, bright green eyes, and unassuming full lips. He was a head taller than the other men, with the detached self-assurance to match, and there was absolutely nothing squirrely or weasely about him, as Ressler had described.

"So, what are you boys up to?" Her tone of voice was just as sweet as her smile.

"Well, we here are just done with eating." The older man on Dover's left, Thomas, answered her with a bit of impatience. He turned to Dover, with an eye on the other man, Augustin. "We've gotta get going, Dover. Bring in your truck later, I'll take a look at it."

"Sure, man. I'll see you then." Dover gave an easy grin just as the two men nodded at Ressler's direction to bid farewell.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Thomas also nodded at Liz, and she smiled widely in return.

Dover watched the two men walk along the street for a bit, then turned his attention back onto Ressler and Liz. "What's going on, Jake? Haven't seen you for good two weeks."

"Well, you know, just business. Been seeing a lot of Anton, though."

"That's too bad. I'd hate to see that ugly mug more than I have to." Dover chuckled loudly, but at the same, masking a certain loathing at the mention of that name. He turned to Liz, "I've been asking your man for a beer, but he's too busy…with business, as he says. When will I ever catch a break with him?"

"Can't help you. I'm just as exasperated with him as you are."

Ressler threw her a quick glance of sly disapproval, but kept his attention on Dover, "Well, I'm due at the warehouse in two days."

"Oh? It's about time. They took their sweet time with you…I mean, who wouldn't trust the menace in that face?"

Ressler shook his head and chuckled, "Yeah, well, just ask your brother."

"I wouldn't take Anton so seriously, he trusts no one and speaks only from paranoia." Dover's easy demeanor shifted visibly to muffled dread, and Liz could see the complexity of the brotherly relationship was laced with violence and death. "Anyways, I'll be at the warehouse, too. Let's grab beer after, it'd be a good time as any."

"That's if I make it out of there alive, more or less."

"No worries, Jake. You're good, I could tell you that much. I'm your man…I got you covered." Dover's smile returned as he approved of Ressler, and Liz was struck with how strange it was that Dover seemed to genuinely like Ressler. But given Ressler's descriptions of him…was she reading him all wrong?

"Well, how rude of me to keep you from your lunch, and from the company of a beautiful lady." Dover turned to Liz, "I hope you have a great stay here, this town is quite charming if you give it a chance."

"Oh, before you go, Dover, do you mind giving me a smoke?" Liz had been eyeing the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket.

"Sure, you can have anything you see on this body." Dover smiled eagerly at Liz as he gave her a cigarette, and held a lighter in hand in case she needed it.

"Thank you. And would you mind having a cig with me? I hate smoking alone, it's damn depressing."

"Of course. Anything the lady asks."

"Jake, honey…would you mind getting us a table inside? I'll be in about two minutes." She faced Ressler, whose face was quickly losing the battle of masking a distinct disapproval and objection. But she nudged him at his chest and nodded to him, in hopes that he'd be reassured, even just a little. Ressler inhaled deeply, and she knew it bore of annoyance, but he nodded back to her in agreement.

"Bye, Dover."

"See you, Jake. In two days."

Once Ressler had entered the diner with those heavy reluctant steps, Liz faced Dover with a sweet, beguiling smile. She placed the cigarette between her lips, and leaned closer to him, "Light?"

Dover obliged without a moment's loss, and lit her cigarette, then proceeded to light his. "Jake's quite a lucky guy…damn lucky."

"Well, he didn't tell me he had such charming friends."

"I can't imagine Jake saying more than two words about me. He ain't much of a talker."

"Tell me about it. I should be branded a damn hero for putting up with him for this long."

Dover snickered at her words, seemingly enjoying her wit and the easy banter. He puffed deeply of his cigarette, then spoke carefully, "How did you two meet, anyway?"

"We met in my hometown, back in Minnesota. I was working as a waitress, and he was a regular customer at the restaurant."

"So, you two serious?" She could tell Dover was treading very cautiously, knowing that all of this talk was essentially none of his business. But his curiosity and questioning was nicely flowing according to her rogue plans, as Ressler would put it.

"I don't know. How serious can it be when the man lives in a damn motel?"

"Come on, now. I'm sure it's just temporary…he's gotta be looking into trading up."

"Well, I wouldn't mind trading up myself."

Dover looked at her with a raise brow, perhaps in confusion of what it is that she was referring to. But she was sure he'll arrive at the right conclusion, seeing that Dover had quite an intuitive and astute mind…definitely not to be underestimated. She blinked her eyes slowly, and seductively, "Enough about Jake. So, how about you? What does a handsome, young fella like you do in this town?"

Dover smiled with an unexpected bashfulness at her complement, "What do I do in this damn town…I wouldn't even know how to call it."

"That's a lot of mystery, for a town this small."

"Alright…I guess it's a bit of everything…I'm a secretary, an accountant, a banker, and a bit of a lawyer thrown in. And a family peacemaker…that was an inherited position."

"Interesting…you're quite an interesting guy, Dover."

"You think so?"

"Oh, definitely." She was done with her cigarette, and she threw it thoughtlessly onto the ground, but her gaze never left Dover's eyes. She had him locked in on her unwavering eyes and the inviting smile that was just as intense, "Do you ever think about leaving this town? Can't imagine a smart guy like you living in this small hick town for long. You don't belong in this place."

"Can't say I haven't thought about it."

"May be you need a push…may be you need someone to escape with."

"Escape, huh?"

"You have a woman with you?" Liz spoke with a coy lilt, never letting go of the gaze of his eyes that had lost all of the sharp edges, but retained a sparkle of soft seduction.

"Nope…single as that lonely number."

"I think a good woman is exctly what you need."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Good to know…good to know." Liz brushed against him with a lingering touch as she walked past him toward the door of the diner, "You know where to find me…if you ever wanna talk. My name is Lilly, by the way."

Liz didn't give Dover a parting look as she entered the diner, finding Ressler seated at the far corner, facing the window. She knew he had been watching them the entire time, as predicted, and as soon as their eyes met, his gaze flared into an angry glare.

She didn't say a word as she sat opposite him on the booth, facing him boldly. Ressler leaned closer to her, and muttered with a hushed hiss, "Just what the hell are you doing?"

"Simply put, Ress…I'm leaving you for Dover."

. . . . . . .

**A/N: AHHhhhh…have you all been watching the BLACKLIST and swooning with all the Keenler scenes? I swear, I've seen more interactions (and yes, flirting!) during the last 2 eps than possibly the entire 1****st**** season! Oh, it's written on the wall…phoned in…smoke signaled…that Keenler is HAPPENING, and I love the slow burn that the writers are taking. Ressler, and his pill issues, will surely make him vulnerable, and Liz will be there for him, I'm sure of it.**

**So…I realized I've been writing Ressler ALL WRONG. To me, he was still straight-laced and serious kinda guy, but he's actually pretty sarcastic and funny. Well, I should say, he is like that to Liz, which makes it all the more endearing that he's being real with her. Love their interactions and light hearted banter….and all their lingering eye contact and stolen looks…and that shoulder hug. AWWW.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 9**

"Say what?"

"You heard me."

Ressler's eyes widened, or more like imploded from the center, and the teal blue oozed out to the circumference she had not seen or thought possible. The his sharp piercing gaze and the grim hulking posture demanded answers from her, but the more he pressed, the more she resisted him. She wasn't going to be intimidated by him, and she couldn't believe his nerve, that he'd actually think he could ever rattle her. Liz straightened her back and sat upright, pushing her chest outward in an obvious effrontery to his challenge. And what may have tipped him over the jagged edge was when she casually opened the menu and proceeded to peruse it. She was sure his nose had just flared a mean ripple.

"Liz, I swear, I don't know what the hell you're doing, but I'll be damned if…"

"Dover is not what you described him to be." She spoke calmly in between flipping the pages of a rather greasy menu, "Your character assessment is off. Add that to the list."

"You think you have a read on a guy whom you spoke to for two minutes? I've known him for close to eight months."

"True, but…"

"There's no 'but', Keen." She had to admit her heart was startled a slight at the hiss of his guttural tone. He called her by that name only when he was utterly and unequivocally…angry. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. So, put away that ego."

"My ego has nothing to do with this. Let's just say, I'm jump starting this mission."

"You know…I've been living in this hell hole for the last twelve months of my life, putting my ass on the line every damn single day, and who knows if I'll get a bullet in my head in two days. But, believe it or not, the one single thing that I regret the most is that I called you into this mission. Because not only do I have to put up with you picking fights with me constantly, but now you've begun to muck up everything I've worked for."

Ressler paused only to take a ragged breath, but he must've realized that the harsh tone of his voice had progressively become louder. He looked around the diner to see if anyone had perked ears, "It's funny…I must've been in some drugged out stupor to ever justify calling you in."

"Ress, the best thing you did was to call me in."

"Why? So I could have you challenge me, criticize me, and question every decision I make? And don't forget, reminding me of all my flaws. Yes, you're right. Without you here, I'd have missed out on the psychological boot camp."

"The only reason I came here is because I care…for you. And everything I've done was for you…and because of you."

"Sure, and now you're dumping me…for that scrat Dover."

"You need to calm down..."

"Let me save you the trouble, because you know, I hate break ups. All those emotional hang-ups…who wants to deal with that…Jesus." Ressler leaned closer to her, in a wicked whisper, "Tell him you were all his from the first moment you saw him. He should know, up front, that you are _that_ kind of a woman."

Her lips simply hung agape, with not a word escaping through them. Her mind felt completely bereft of not just words, but of any coherent thoughts at facing the onslaught of his vehemence. His words stung like a poisoned arrow, with every intonation dipped in mean cruelty. And it wasn't his crass comment that got to her; she couldn't care less about how he condescended her regarding Dover. No, what got to her was his absolute regret at calling her in, and how she had been described as the treacherous thorn on his side.

But it didn't take long before a tangible emotion took hold of her deep within…of seething anger and outrage. How dare he speak to her like that? And how dare he misunderstand her so, and…how dare he…how dare he not know how she felt about him? How does he not know that she…that she…

"You two love birds ready to order?"

A pleasant smile of a plump middle-aged woman wearing a pink uniform interrupted into their space, awakening both of them from their frowning stupor, "Would you be interested in today's specials?"

"Umm…" Ressler muttered in frazzled delay at her cloying smile, with her pencil ready on her notepad.

"Well, today, we have t-bone steak with peppered asparagus, and…"

"I'll have that." He broke in with a rough growl, with the furrowed brows intact. Oh, that poor woman.

"I'll have that, too. Thank you."

Liz managed a small smile at the waitress as she collected the menus with an eye on Ressler. She was visibly flustered at his abrupt behavior, and spoke meekly, "Would you like some coffee with that?"

"Yes, please."

Liz spoke for both of them, and as soon as the waitress left, her eyes returned to Ressler's face with a stern gaze. His abrasive demeanor toward the waitress was quite unnecessary, and she was about to give him an earful. And he knew it, too, as his eyes deflected from hers in a regrettable slump.

"Look, Liz…I'm sorry."

"You mean to the waitress…"

"Well, yeah, to the waitress. But, I meant…to you. I could be such an ass sometimes."

"You got the 'ass' part right. I'd object to the 'sometimes' part, it's more like…"

"Way to make this easy for me. I knew I could count on you." Their eyes met in an easy laughter, with his teal blue eyes sparkling against the bright sunlight seeping through the front window. His lips turned up to a small grin…and she simply loved this about him. She loved that they could easily return to humor, even at their worst disagreements, and that he didn't hold her at fault irrationally and selfishly. He really can be the most patient and forgiving person...and that was his most surprising secret.

"If I could take back basically everything I said just now…"

"Ress, don't worry about it."

"No…that was thoughtless of me, and improper…"

"Improper? I see you've picked up all the choice town lingo." She teased with a muffled snicker, but his countenance remained unmoved.

"I don't know what came over me. I do apologize for my words, I didn't mean to be so harsh." He looked into her eyes, and held her gaze with soft edges, "And I'm only gonna say this once…you're right."

"I'm right? About?"

"Jesus…I can't believe I'm about to say this. And don't you dare get big-headed about it."

"Just say it…spill it."

"You're right…that calling you in was a smart move."

"Of course, I'm right about it…and I'm glad you've finally recognized it and admitted that…"

"Which isn't to say that it was a wise move. Liz…you just get me so…riled up. You push all the right buttons, that's for sure." A smile with gentle timidity reared on his face, "No other woman has had that effect on me. Ever."

So…he does see her as a woman. "Should I be flattered?"

"Yeah, you should. There's a very special place in my heart for you. It's a dark grim place, filled with sharp objects, and you're in it…"

Liz was about to pummel him with a sharp retort when the waitress appeared from behind Ressler, holding a coffee carafe. She reached for the mugs on their table with restrained uncertainty, "I have coffee for y'all, if you don't mind."

"Thank you, ma'am." Ressler even attempted a smile to go along with that apologetic gratitude, but the waitress scurried away quickly after she poured coffee into their mugs.

"There you have it. You've traumatized a sweet old lady. She's done for it." Liz chided with a mean twinkle, as she watched the waitress disappear behind the curtains of the kitchen entrance.

"Damn…poor relations with the elderly constituents. I'll add that to the list."

"Well, that was hardly a surprise."

"Yup, it should shock…no one."

Liz and Ressler shared a soft snicker as each took a sip of the steaming coffee. The hot liquid oozed down her throat, infiltrating her chilled and tense body, and working like heated elixir to soothe her every brittle nerve. It helped that Ressler was now smiling at her, in his warm and doting concern. His eyes mirrored his relaxed smile, with the edges curled in sincerity and even a bashful probe. It wasn't often that Liz would catch him looking at her like that, but when he did…she was sure her heart stirred with a fearful flutter.

"Ress, I'm sorry, too. I was unfairly critical of you, and my words were harsh. It was uncalled for."

"Nah, I need my ass kicked sometimes. Glad I have you for that…you keep me in check."

"No, I said a lot of things in heat, it…it was unprofessional."

"For cryin' out loud," Ressler shook his head, but his eyes were twinkling with warm jest, "Are we even considered professional at this point? We stopped being that for…awhile now."

"Then…what are we?"

"Definitely partners."

"Of course…"

Ressler rested his coffee mug on the table, and he eyed Liz with a mysterious glint, "But…we're more than partners, we are…"

"Umm…friends?"

"Friends…I suppose. Although that isn't quite what I was thinking. It's a bit…more."

"Friends, but not quite friends…more than friends, but not quite…"

"It's complicated. You are I…we are complicated." Ressler picked up his mug of coffee, but simply stared at it in an uneasy contemplation, "Whatever we are…I'm expecting you to have my back, you know. Save my life out there."

"Oh, you bet. Same goes to you, too."

"No need to speak of it. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect you."

Liz's hand hung in mid air just as his words were heard and understood, and she quickly placed her coffee mug on the table, for fear of dropping it as she felt all her energy and lucidity robbed. She searched his eyes, but he wasn't looking at her and had his eyes downcast upon the table, perhaps intentionally. His words startled her, as well as the solemnity and the clarity in which he spoke with. He meant what he said; she had no doubt about that. It's just that…she had not known to what extent he felt…protective, or responsible, over her.

But there was something else…something that was beyond the words, no matter the startling honesty. There was the heart that beat behind those trembling words, of certain emotions felt long before…of certain vulnerabilities hidden and perhaps now, wishing to be known. Just how did Ressler feel about…

"Here we are," the waitress seemed to again appear in their view with neither of them in aware. She was carrying two large plates of their lunch, and she set them on their table with a heavy exhale. Liz gazed at the waitress; either she had the best timing…or the crappiest timing.

Ressler worked quickly and efficiently in cutting his steak, but Liz was not ready to eat just yet. No, she was not ready to drop the subject that she felt was long coming. Never mind that they were in the middle of an undercover operation. Never mind that they were in some hick diner, in the middle of the day, surrounded by bunch of old folks eating their meat loaf and egg pudding. She wanted to talk. She wanted to talk about it. She wanted to talk about…

"Your food's getting cold." He shot her a quick glance, but not missing a beat to his vigorous chewing, "The steak is bit overcooked."

"Oh, is it?" Liz picked up her fork, but her eyes remained on Ressler.

"I thought we asked for medium rare, with a touch of blood on the side."

Liz heard his words, but it was as if his words became engulfed in incoherence at her own toiling thoughts. He slowed down his chewing, and sought her eyes with a furrowed brow, "Wow, tough crowd today."

"Uh, what?"

"That was a joke. I said that we…oh, never mind." He resumed cutting of his steak, "So...what were you saying about Dover? Just what are you planning in that head of yours?"

"Are you ready to listen?" The conversation about their…thing has to wait, for later. "Because this mission could be completed, tonight."

"I'm listening."

"We need to arrange for transport, because we are grabbing Dover."

"That's…the plan? And I suppose you've made a dinner date with Dover, because how else would we know where he is?"

"I'm fairly confident we'll see him."

"Fairly confident? Just how would we…" Ressler leaned in, closer to Liz, and his voice dropped to a low growl, "Liz, what did you do?"

"It was…nothing, just using what I've got. What's important is…are you going to arrange for transport? Are you willing to do this?"

Ressler leaned back into the green vinyl seat, with the fork in his hand strumming against the plate in the rhythm of his thoughts, "What happens if we don't see Dover?"

"We'll see him."

"But how…"

"We'll SEE him." Now it was Liz who leaned in toward his bemused eyes, "We don't know where he is, but he knows where we are. He'll come to us."

"I thought my status assessment was off…yours is completely over-bloated."

"Ress…call Cooper for extraction. Let's…end this mission, tonight. I get that you think there's some unfinished business, but…"

"Alright, alright." Ressler nodded his head in reluctant acquiescence, "I'll call Cooper. If indeed we see Dover, tonight…we're leaving this town with him."

Liz smiled in relief, and she detected a sly grin at the corner of his mouth as well. She should really take back her word that hastily, and mercilessly, called him stubborn. "Great…let's get back to the motel."

"And?"

"And we wait."

But just as Liz stood up from her chair, Ressler was by her side, "You still think I'm stubborn as hell?"

"No, Ress. No, you're not. I owe you a retraction…and an apology."

"So, I guess we're not breaking up after all."

"Oh, shut up, Ress."

. . . . . . .

It was late in the afternoon when they returned to the motel, and the first thing they decided to do was to call Cooper. Liz retrieved her Fed-issued mobile phone from the sewn compartment of her luggage, and handed it to Ressler.

"Make sure you inform Cooper it'll be a three person transport."

"Got it." Ressler threw a quizzical gaze at how closely she was standing next to him.

"And the chopper must be at the destination within the hour of the confirmation call."

"Anything else?"

Liz pursed her lips tightly closed at his probing eyes. She didn't mean to bark orders at him, but she couldn't risk any of the small details unattended. And…she still wasn't sure if Ressler was wholly willing to go through with the plan. It wouldn't surprise her one bit if he had his own hidden plans up his sleeve, and it'd be completely expected that he'd withhold that information…if he thought he was protecting her.

"Sir, I'm calling in for an extraction, for tonight." Ressler had connected with Cooper on the phone. He paused for a moment, "Three person transport. Agent Keen, myself, and a lead informant."

"Between twenty and twenty-two hundred hours. A confirmation call will be made within the hour of arrival."

"Yes, sir. I have it ready." There was a long pause before Ressler responded, "Understood, sir."

"I'd like to, sir. That would be my recommendation."

"Yes, sir." And with that, Ressler ended the call and handed the mobile phone to Liz, with not an expression on his face. She took the phone from his hand, but she knew something wasn't right. Something wasn't as it appeared to be.

"What do you mean you have it ready? What is 'it'?" She pressed him, with her hand upon his arm to demand his attention. But he wasn't having it.

"Liz…the plan. I have the plan, ready."

"That doesn't even make any sense. And what is this recommendation you speak of? You'd like to do what?"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. Relax, Keen. It isn't some conspiracy code talk."

"Then, what the hell were you talking about? I swear, Ress, if you're up to something…"

"I just had to reassure Cooper about some loose ends. Don't worry…the extraction is happening tonight, if that bastard Dover shows up."

"So, everything is set?"

"Yes, so you can rest your pretty head."

Still feeling unsatisfied, Liz inched closer to him with an expectant stance. She knew he wasn't being forthright, and it bothered her to no end. "You're coming, with us…right? You're leaving with us?"

"Yes, for the last time."

"Ress, if you're lying to me about this…"

"Jesus Christ…relax, Liz. Cooper agreed with the extraction, everything is good to go."

Then without a second look to her, Ressler grabbed the T.V. remote control and plopped down upon the bed. He turned on the T.V. and proceeded to flip through the channels, "While you huff and puff over there, I'm gonna rest and enjoy myself a little until your date Dover shows up. If he shows up, that is."

"He will show up." Liz replied as she fell into the bed next to Ress, with their shoulders lightly touching. She couldn't bear to think that Ressler might be lying to her. He can't be…right? He wouldn't be so cold…and so cruel. He couldn't possibly lie to her, after all that they've been through for the last two days. Right?

"You might as well take a nap. You should rest up, because tonight sounds like it'll be a real doozy." Ressler grumbled toward her way, himself stretching on the bed with a muffled yawn.

"No, I'm fine. And don't think for one second that I can't see right through you. I know what you're doing."

"What? What am I doing?"

"You're mocking me. You don't think Dover is going to show up, and you think my plan will fail."

"No, I don't think that…"

"Yes, you do. You can't wait to see me eat my own words."

"Well, if you put it that way…then, yeah, maybe a little…"

Liz shot him a quick side glance, "All I know is, at the end of all this, you're going to thank me for saving your ass."

. . . . . . .

"I'll be damned…"

"What…what is it?" Liz shot up on the bed at the sound of his voice, which rang loudly in the stillness of their small motel room. It turned out that she did fall asleep after all, and the sharp alarm of his voice jolted her awake. The room was now dimly lit with a lone table lamp, and she found Ressler standing by the window, peeking out behind the clutched curtains.

"What's wrong?" She fought to gain clarity in her mind after the slumber, and this time, spoke louder at his direction. But he didn't move a muscle, even at her repeated words.

"There's a car parked by the motel gate. Someone is sitting in there."

"And?"

"And he's watching us. I'm sure of it."

"He's alone?"

"Yup."

Liz got off the bed, and as soon as she was by his side, Ressler took a step back so she could take a look herself. She peeked behind the curtains at the direction he pointed, and indeed, there was a car parked underneath the great oak tree by the motel gate. And just as a passing car illuminated the road with its bright yellow front lights, it casted an eerie blur upon the shadowy figure sitting in the driver's seat.

She stepped back from the window and faced Ressler, "What should we do?"

"I'm tempted to just go over there and…"

"And what? Beat the crap out of him?"

"No…I want to know what his business is…find out what the hell he wants."

"And how do you suppose you'll do that? He may not be up for a conversation."

Ressler sighed and gritted his teeth, once again peeking out the window with an annoyed determination. "Well, I gotta do something…wait, wait a minute…"

"What?"

"Looks like I don't have to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

"He just got out of the car, and is walking this way. He's coming…here."

"What?"

"It's…it's Dover." Ressler let go of the curtains, and faced Liz without missing a beat, "Get your phone…and the gun."

. . . . . . .

"Hey, Dover. What's going on, man?"

"Nothing much, Jake. Was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd gift you with my presence."

"Sure, man. Come in." Ressler snickered softly as he opened the door wide for Dover to walk through. Liz was sitting on the bed, and as soon as Dover saw her, she was certain he had just blushed…like some shy school boy.

"Dover, how nice to see you."

"Hello, Lily. I hope I'm not intruding, I know I came without a warning."

"No, we were just…watching T.V." She smiled brightly at him, "Are you here to take Jake out for that beer?"

"Beer sounds good." Ressler chimed in, "Why don't we just go grab some dinner together? I do owe you a tab."

"Yeah, well, I guess we can. It's just that…" Dover's voice cracked a slight, just as he shifted his feet in what looked to be an agitated nerve, "Oh hell, this is all real silly, if you ask me."

"What's silly?" Ressler's face bore an unaffected countenance, but Liz could tell he was beginning to get agitated and impatient.

"This whole business of…"

"Of what?"

"Look, Jake, let me get some truth with you," Dover heaved a sigh, perhaps of relief, or of some mysterious release, "I like you, and I have no reason to think you got some shady business up your sleeve. But you see, there are some regulations to follow. It's part of the business, you know?"

"Like…watching me? Having me followed?"

Dover laughed, but with the nervous apprehension fully intact, "You're smart…no doubt, you're real smart. Can't get around you too easily."

"So, I'm assuming you're watching me tonight. Then, why are you here?"

"Like I said, I think this whole regulation business is real silly. I ain't gonna sit in that cold ass car all night, watching that damn brown door."

"Aren't you breaking the…regulations?"

"The hell with the regulations. It's set up and enforced by paranoia. Just ask my brother." Dover shook his head, and his easy smile returned, "I got nothing on you, Jake. Come on…I'm perfectly fine with fudging with the damn regulations."

"So…what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting beer, man. Some good food, and good company. How about it?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

. . . . . . . .

It didn't take much insistence to persuade Dover that Ressler would be driving. They piled into the truck, with Liz in the middle between the men. She snuggled close to Dover, with a sly smile to match, and his eyes glazed with a dopey glint of ardor. They had Dover in the car; the hard part was done.

They had decided on a restaurant that Dover frequented often, but Ressler did not take the road that led to it. In fact, he stepped on the gas pedal with unrestrained furor, and the truck sped down on the dark street with a loud menace.

"Hey, Jake, you missed our road." Dover leaned over to look at his face, "And, man…slow down."

It was then that Liz took out the gun wedged in her belt, and instantly pointed it at Dover, "Don't you dare move. I will shoot you."

"What the hell?" Dover, as expected, jumped up in sharp startle, "What the hell is going on?"

"Shut up." Liz held the gun steady as she pulled out the phone from her shirt pocket. Dover watched with his eyes wide in shock as she handed the phone to Ressler.

"Sir, we are on our way." Ressler spoke calmly to the phone, "We'll be there in thirty minutes."

Ressler paused for a moment, presumably listening to directions from Cooper, "Yes, sir. Everything is in place."

Then he hung up, and handed the phone back to Liz. She didn't dare take her eyes off of Dover, but she didn't like the sound of…everything is in place. What is this everything he's talking about?

"Who the hell are you people? Where are you taking me?" Dover's voice was hoarse and scratched with obvious dread. He was holding onto the car door, and eyeing the gun with deep lines of fear etched on his face.

"Dover, we are federal agents, and we know you are involved with dealing chemical weapons."

"No, I am not…I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Shut up." Liz pointed the gun to his face, "You are now under federal arrest, and you will be transported to the FBI headquarters in Washington DC. There, you will be offered immunity and protection, but under one condition."

"What?"

"That you provide us with every information you have on your organization. And here's a bit of a helpful hint, you'd be stupid to pass it up."

"What kind of protection are we talking about?"

"The kind that will save your life."

Just then, the truck made a sharp swerve into a lot, and Liz recognized it as the tarmac that she had landed on a few days ago. Ressler slowed down the truck, just as the large chopper was spotted in the dim moonlight. He parked the truck by the abandoned warehouse, and grumbled toward Liz, "Let's go."

Ressler swiftly got out of the car and ran toward the passenger's side door, opened it in one quick move and grabbed Dover cowering toward him. Liz jumped out of the truck just as quickly, keeping an eye on the surroundings with the gun pointed downward. Then she ran, behind Ressler clutching onto Dover, toward the chopper with its rotor blade powerfully running with merciless vigor, blowing away everything in sight. Her hair swept against her eyes, but she kept her focus on ahead, watching the chopper door being swung open by an agent in uniform.

Ressler first threw Dover into the chopper, and the agent followed him in and hand cuffed the hapless and bewildered criminal. Ressler held the chopper door open for Liz, and watched her climb in after the agent. Once inside, the agent held her arm and helped her to an empty seat in the front, and by instinct, she grabbed the seat belt. Everything was happening too fast, and the chopper was too loud. She felt her mind swirling in frantic hustle, and her ears were ringing like uneven drum beats. Then she heard the chopper door flung shut, and there…finally…it was over. They were going back home, they were safe.

She had expected to see Ressler seated next to her, but he wasn't there. She turned her head sharply to the back of the chopper, and all she saw was Dover cowering next to the agent. Ressler was not in the chopper.

Then she knew it, and her heart sank like lead to the depths. She looked out of the window, and spotted Ressler, running along the tarmac toward the truck. She felt the chopper gearing above the ground, and desperately she looked out of the window at his shadowy figure once again. Then, without another thought, she clicked off her seat belt, and flung open the chopper door. She heard the agent scream out her name, but she didn't give a damn. She jumped off the chopper, and ran with all the might she could muster, towards Ressler.

"What the hell are you doing?" She grabbed his shoulder with an emphatic force, swinging him around to face her. She was yelling against the roaring chopper engine, but it was also a forcible release, of all the boiled emotions swirling in her heart…of the hurt, confusion, and feelings of absolute betrayal.

"Liz, get back to the chopper!"

"I'm not leaving without you!"

"You're out of your mind." Ressler attempted to shake off her hold on his arm, but her grip was firm and determined. "Just go! The longer you delay…damn it, Liz, you're endangering the entire mission."

"The mission is done. Cooper had issued extraction, follow your orders."

"No."

"No?"

Ressler looked at the chopper nervously, "I've informed Cooper I'll be staying behind. There is some unfinished business I must tend to."

"What the hell…what unfinished business?"

"Look, Liz…I don't have time to explain. Cooper is expecting you and the informant transport in half an hour. So, get back on the chopper, now!"

Liz yelled louder this time, "Damn you…damn you, Ress. You lied to me!"

"Yeah, well, you can kill me the next time you see me."

"You're crazy…and you are stubborn as hell!"

Ressler shook off her grip of his arm, and inched closer to her, "Liz, for the last time, get back on the chopper!"

Then she wasn't sure what had happened, for all the sights and sounds had become muffled and indistinct. It was as if her body and her mind had become disjointed, as she didn't say a word to Ressler, who gave her one last look before turning around and disappearing into the thick darkness. She also couldn't explain the force that moved her own feet back to the chopper, and she was still in a daze when she allowed the agent to help her to a seat, next to Dover.

"Agent Keen, I must warn you against opening the chopper door without permission from the pilot."

"It's understood. My apologies."

Then, again by instinct, she grabbed the seat belt and fastened it around her waist. And by some mysterious pull, her face turned to the window, and just as the chopper took off from the ground, she saw Ressler's truck leaving the lot with its small red tail lights.

And it was then that her lucidity returned, and with it brought tears streaming without control. Her eyes stayed fixated upon the truck, becoming increasingly smaller and…further away from her grasp. Soon, the truck was nowhere to be seen, and instead it was only the ominous blackness that greeted her face upon the window. Her vision blurred against her tears, but she had no will to restrain her tears, nor any desire to pretend any of it. She didn't even wipe away the tears, but allowed it to flow unhindered.

"Were you guys…together…like, more than…" Dover's quivering voice rang into her ear, and she felt his beady eyes upon her.

"Shut up."

Liz kept her eyes upon the window, and away from Dover's eyes that searched for matters that was absolutely beyond his concern. Dover…he was the last person she'd talk to about Ressler. It was laughable…inconceivable. Dover would be the last person that she'd admit to…admit to…that she loved Ressler. No, it was none of his damn business. In fact, it was no one's business, but her own, that she was in love with Donald Ressler. And that her heart had just broken and shattered to utter despair when she left him behind.

. . . . . . .

**A/N: First of all, thank you for reading this story! And so sorry for taking forever to update, I was just TOO BUSY with life (if you knew…).**

**OK, folks…keep being patient with Keenler. I know there hasn't been many scenes of them lately, but patience, my dear friends…I'd rather the writers take the time to do it right, then rush into something out of character or half-baked. I actually prefer them to take their time, it means it's being taken care of with much care and love **


	10. Chapter 10

**Wouldn't You Know It**

**Chapter 10**

"Welcome back, Agent Keen."

"Thank you…sir."

Everything still felt…unreal, as if she was trapped in a horrid daze where she couldn't even feel her own pulse, let alone a heartbeat. It could be that she was utterly and wretchedly exhausted, with her eyes weighing upon her face like a ton of bricks, ready to crumble upon her if she let go a sliver. And her legs…it was nothing short of a miracle that they were holding her up, as she stood before Assistant Director Harold Cooper, in his stuffy office at near midnight. Every sights and sounds brought a sharp pinch to her head, as if her own body was begging her for a respite. It's only been an hour since she'd last seen of Ressler, but it felt like it was a life time ago.

Her tears did not cease for the entire chopper ride, as she didn't give one thought to the alarmed gaze from the accompanying agent…and an amused smirk from Dover. Liz didn't give a damn about the presumptions rampant in their minds; for once, she didn't give a hell care to how she presented herself in front of other agents. She allowed her tears to stream and wander, now and then clutching onto her lips to muffle the loud sobs that threatened to escape. And now she was paying the price for it. She was certain that her eyes were disturbingly blood shot, and every blink felt like sand paper grating upon her puffy eyelids. And her headache…felt like a raging hell fire.

Cooper studied her face, lingering over her moist eyes with a mixture of concern and confusion, "You must be tired, Agent Keen, so I'll make this quick. First of all, you did a fine job out there."

"Thank you, sir."

"The transport individual is in custody, being processed as we speak. We will start the interrogation procedure as soon as I receive confirmation from Homeland Security regarding immunity. Would you like to be the lead in the interrogation?"

"I have…no preference, sir. The individual appears willing to speak, so there is no bearing with whom he speaks to."

"I see…" Cooper gazed at her with a glint of wariness, "Regardless, I would like you to be available, if need be."

"Of course, sir."

Cooper then motioned Liz to sit on the chair in front of his desk, and she complied without hesitation. It was clear that he wasn't done with her yet. "Agent Keen, what is on your mind?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Agent Keen, you played a key role in extracting an individual who may help us crack a year-long operation, putting an end to a very dangerous criminal activity, of international magnitude. Yet…you seem distressed, if I may say so. I'm thinking, perhaps you haven't grasped the perspective…or perhaps it's something else. Enlighten me, Agent Keen."

"Sir, I do realize and recognize the significance of our work, regarding this operation."

"Then, what is it, Agent Keen? What is bothering you?"

Liz inhaled a lung full of the stuffy air, and exhaled in ragged breaths. She felt like releasing everything, yet at the same time, withholding everything. "It's Agent Ressler, sir."

"You're concerned for his safety."

"Yes, sir. The people he's dealing with are more dangerous than I presumed to be."

"I realize that, Agent Keen. I myself objected to him staying behind."

"Sir…"

"But regrettably, it wasn't my decision alone, and he was commissioned for one more week of field work."

"Sir, I'd object to even one more day."

"I understand, Agent Keen, but my hands are tied. The operation of this magnitude involves multi-level of offices, and the decisions have already been made. If Agent Ressler is successful, a high commendation will surely be in order."

"If, sir? If he's successful?"

"Agent Keen, I'm just as concerned for his safety as you are. But Agent Ressler is the best field officer I have, and I'm confident of his work. He has also communicated with me specific details of his plans, so I'm well informed of his calculations and methods, however mad you may think they are."

"And, if I may ask, what are his plans?"

"That, Agent Keen, remains to be classified information."

"Sir, at this point, I deserve to be included…"

"And I don't disagree with you. However, I don't make such decisions, and level-three confidentiality still holds for this case."

"Sir, I would object…it makes no sense that…"

"Agent Keen," Cooper folded his hands, and offered her a tight grin. She was well familiar with this expression, that he wasn't open to any type of persuasion. "We can sit here and argue about things beyond our control, or you can go home and get some sleep. I'll leave it up to you to make that call."

"With all respect, sir, I refuse to believe that…"

"Agent Keen, you have to believe me when I say I have every intention of seeing Agent Ressler back here, alive and well. But his mission is not completed yet. Your concern for him is absolutely warranted, as he is your partner, however this conversation has no function beyond this point." He stood up to stress her leave, "Go home and rest, Agent Keen, and that's an order. I'm putting you on call, but I'm recommending that you take the day off tomorrow."

He was done with her…and she reluctantly accepted that she was done with him as well. Liz stood up from the chair with a heavy leaden heart, "Yes, sir."

Liz sensed Cooper's eyes upon her as she filed out of his office with a heave of jagged breath. The post office was now silent and still, and her slumping footsteps rang out like hollow claps upon the concrete floor. She eyed her office, now a shell of a black space with the lights turned off. It was still unfathomable, almost too incredible to be true, that she had only been gone for three days for what it felt like an eternity. So much had happened…and so much had she come to firm realization.

Ressler…she was in love with Ressler. She was in love with her partner, Donald Ressler. And there was nothing she wouldn't do to have him back, as soon and as quick as her next breath.

. . . . . . .

"Lizzie, you're back. How was…"

"Ressler…you need to bring him back. I don't care what you do, or how you do it…but whatever it takes, you must get him back."

"You were never one to dote with pleasantries."

After a fitful night of sleep, the first thing she did when she opened her eyes the next morning was to call Reddington, and he showed up at her doorstep with Dembe in tow. He had hardly taken off his fedora when she barraged him.

"Red, I mean it, Ressler needs to get out of there…"

"Lizzie, calm down."

"They're bound to find out we took one of their men, and they will go after Ressler. How stupid of him to stay behind!"

"There's no need to scream…"

"What the hell is he thinking? Be damned with this unfinished business…it CANNOT be worth losing your own damn life. And he lied to me…"

"Lizzie, I'm sure Donald…"

"And YOU…you knew about this, didn't you?" She stepped an inch closer to Reddington, and while she was no longer screaming, her face retained all the scowl of seething madness, "You knew he was going to stay behind, you must have! And you did nothing to stop him…nothing."

"Lizzie, I could assure you, I knew nothing about Donald's plans. Had I known, I would've arranged for his transport myself. I would've knocked him out if I had to."

She took a step away from Reddington, as if she needed air and space, and started to pace around the living room of her small apartment. She needed to expend all the built up energy, and without being aware she began to flail her arms, just as Reddington sat on her couch with an amused countenance.

"Fine…what's done is done. But I need your help…I need you to get him out of there."

"Well, that's going to be a tad difficult, seeing that I have no idea where he is."

"Use your damn resources…you must have some criminal system everywhere…use one of your bumbling local criminals, if you have to. Don't tell me there's nothing you can do, because I don't believe it."

"I must say, your assessment of the width of my criminal activity is more impressive than it actually is."

"I don't have time to play games…and I don't have time to waste. I need him out, NOW."

"What did Cooper tell you?"

She waved her hand arrogantly at the sudden mention of that name, "It doesn't matter what Cooper said."

"Oh? He must've had plenty to say about this situation, seeing that he is partly responsible for it. How long did he give Donald…a week?"

"Something like that."

"Well, then, it's settled. I'm sure Donald can manage to stay alive for one week, he is quite resourceful and tactical. Don't tell him I said that."

"I'm not waiting for a week, let alone one hour. You need to get him out, now. And if you won't help, then I'm going to do it myself."

Reddington let out a chuckle, "What are you going to do? Go door to door, looking for him? Turn over every rock…comb through every weed?"

"Shut up, Red…"

"Lizzie, for once, I would adhere to Cooper's directives. I'm assuming Donald is in communications with him, that is the protocol. One thing about Donald, he is a man of rules and regulations."

"Wasn't it you who wanted to send out the SWAT team six months ago?"

"Yes."

"And now you're saying, let this all be? Follow the federal protocol? Alright, what are you not telling me? What do you know?"

Reddington rubbed his shaved head with a hint of irritation, "Lizzie, now you're being completely paranoid. Sit…and calm down…"

"Don't…don't tell me to calm down. Red, if you're withholding information from me, about Ressler…I will…I will…"

"Lizzie, I've told you everything I know regarding this operation, and certainly everything regarding Donald. Believe me when I say, there's nothing I can do, not at this point anyway."

"Bull…that is total bull, and you know it."

"I must say," Reddington leaned back into the couch, and a certain mysterious scrutiny reared on his wicked grin, "I've never seen you behave like this. I understand Donald is your partner, and you're concerned for him, as expected. But you seem almost…desperate. Just what is going on in your mind…or perhaps it's the heart that is the problem."

"I don't know what you mean…"

"Lizzie, might I remind you that you've already broken several of these protocols, which you scoff at so conveniently regarding Ressler, if I may add. I wonder if Cooper is even aware…"

"Red…"

"…that you hopped on the plane to see Ressler as soon as you located him, and needlessly to say, without any protocol confirmation…"

"Don't you dare…"

"…and who really knows what happened out there, just you two, really without any official accountability…"

"Nothing happened." It was then that Liz took a seat on the chair opposite Reddington. It was clear that there was no stopping of this freight train that turned on her with sneaky tease, and she knew that the more she argued, it wasn't going to end well on her part. She crossed her arms and relegated to wait until Reddington had his fill.

"So what did happen during the last three days? That is up for official review, I assume."

"We got our informant, that's what happened."

"Surely, there's got to be more to it than that."

"What the hell are you getting at, Red?"

"Lizzie, this oppositional attitude is getting old and tiresome," he produced a wide toothy grin, and she couldn't help but to recoil under his masked scrutiny. It was as if he could see right through her…well, right through her bull, at least.

"I would like to give you an advice, but I'm afraid it's too late," his voice oozed like honey on snark.

She simply stared, expecting him to continue with or without her inquiry. And he did, "Lizzie, I should've advised you to guard your heart, but already, you've become quite emotional…over Ressler."

"He's my partner, and what happens to him…"

"See, it's exactly that…you hide behind that terminology, pulling it out whenever it's convenient, which coincidentally no one in this room would ever buy into," he briefly glanced at Dembe. The hulking body guard nodded, as if in full agreement. Damn him…

"And I could imagine even Cooper suspects that you have developed…"

"Alright, I don't have to listen to this." Liz stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling suffocated with the heat rising from deep within her. She needed air, and she needed to get out of that room. Reddington…it was as if he knew…and she wasn't ready for it.

"Lizzie, it isn't something to be embarrassed about…but I must warn you that you mustn't allow your feelings for him to cloud your judgment…"

"Red…"

"…already you're willing to break any regulations, defy Cooper's orders, and…"

"Are you finished?" Her voice rang out loudly, more so in their small space. Her feelings, and anything else that was remotely related to it…was none of his damn business.

"Lizzie, take it as a friendly advice."

"Red, I'm never taking love…I mean, relationship…advice from you. Umm…you know what I mean."

"Yes, I certainly know what you mean."

She shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have said love, or relationship for that matter. Now she was facing his smirk, of certain quiet satisfaction, at once again having gained undeserved access to her heart. She winced, but she didn't hide that from Reddington. She could accept loss…of satisfying his teases and whims, and let that be a confirmation that she does indeed have feelings…for Ressler. She no longer saw any reason for fighting it with Reddington, and in desperation, she was willing to use it.

"Red, if you care for me at all…if you understand me, even just a little…then, please help me. I'm asking you…I'm begging you. Please find Ressler, and bring him back."

Reddington gazed sternly into her eyes, then with a deep inhale, got up from the couch. He collected his fedora that he had placed upon the coffee table, and expertly fitted it on his head. Then he signaled to Dembe that they were leaving, and the door was swiftly opened for him. Liz simply watched Reddington and his silent exit, feeling utterly crestfallen and blinded…until he turned to her just before disappearing behind the door.

"I'll see what I can do."

. . . . . . .

Liz didn't hear from Reddington for the next two days, nor did he answer any of her phone calls. Cooper was also absolutely silent regarding the matter, and Liz had to exert exorbitant will to resist pushing him to a corner and demanding answers. Every hour of silence…and absence…felt cruel, and she thought herself driven mad at the ticking of the clock and the moments gone unnoticed. Even as she received information that Dover had fessed up to everything, any mention of Ressler was curiously non-existent.

If left uncontrolled, her mind wandered to what Red had said, that she had become far too emotional regarding Ressler, and that it had already done its wicked damage by clouding her judgment. Perhaps he was right…or more likely, he was absolutely right. But her heart felt what it did, and her mind was well under its spell…and she just couldn't help it. All of the lucid hours were occupied with thoughts of Ressler, worried sick that he was suffering somewhere, being held against his will…or worst yet, left to die in some god-forsaken hellhole. She had missed him thoroughly, that every faculty of her being desired him, and wanted him standing right in front of her. And she wanted to hold him, and tell him that she loved him…

It was the fourth day of the week that Liz decided she would confront Cooper about Ressler. She woke up after another night of stumbling slumber, and as she dressed, she gritted her teeth in determination. Liz no longer cared about rank, and certainly not how she presented herself to her superior. Nothing had meaning…and nothing else mattered…if she couldn't have Ressler back, safe and sound.

Just as she reached for the car keys, her cell phone rang with a muffled sound in her bag. With an irritated huff, Liz fished for the phone and when she finally pulled it out, it read that Aram was calling.

"_Hello, Aram."_

"_Agent Keen, where are you?"_

"_I'm still at home…just about to leave."_

"_You need to get over here, now."_

"_Why? What's going on?"_

"_Agent Keen, just get over here as fast as you can."_

. . . . . . . .

Liz pressed the elevator button several times, each with increasingly impatient flicker, as if the elevator door needed to open at her immediate whim. The memories of the car ride was fuzzy; all she could recollect was that she drove fast and dodged everything in her way with hardly a thought to the aftermath. When the large elevator doors finally parted with a tired thud, she stepped in without a moment's loss, and pressed the button to the main floor of the black site. As the elevator started its heave upwards, Liz finally inhaled deeply. She couldn't remember the last time she had breathed all morning.

When Aram called her that morning, along with that desperate message, she knew…it was as if he didn't have to say another word. It was about Ressler. And as the elevator neared its destination, Liz clutched her suit jacket, right above where her heart was. What if something had happened to him? What if…what if…? Her heart beat faster and tighter, and even in that small space, the world as she saw it swirled with vehemence. Her throat dried up like sand, her head throbbed like a senseless pendulum, and she no longer felt like a functioning human being. Oh, god…what had happened to Ressler?

As soon as the elevator door opened, she rushed out like a freed animal, and immediately spotted Aram standing by her office. He must've been watching the elevator himself, as he ran towards her direction as soon as they eyes connected.

"Aram, what is it?"

"Agent Keen…" He paused, perhaps alarmed by the distress on her face, "It's Agent Ressler."

"What's happened?"

"He's...here."

"What?" Her heart felt just about to implode, "What did you just say?"

"Agent Ressler, he's here."

"Where?"

"In Director Cooper's office."

"How long…when did Ressler get here?"

"Right before I called you…about half an hour ago."

Liz didn't say another word, but turned toward the staircase, with every intention of barging into Cooper's office. She had to see Ressler with her own eyes, and she was blinded to everything else.

"Agent Keen, wait…" Aram grabbed her arm, just as she was about to take another step, "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

"Why not?"

"Mr. Reddington is in there, too."

"It's alright…" Liz turned toward the staircase without a blink, but Aram held onto her arm.

"Agent Keen…I don't think it's a good idea to go in there. They seemed to be very serious, and Director Cooper didn't ask for you."

"I don't care…"

"Agent Keen, just…hang on a sec. You can't just barge in there…Agent Ressler…"

"What about him?"

"He looked fine…a bit dirty, but fine. There was nothing wrong with him, so you don't have to worry about him."

Liz exhaled in a sigh of relief. Aram's words were like a soothing coolant upon her inflamed heart, and her rational senses seemed to rear its existence, ever so slowly. She took in another deep inhale, and Aram finally let go of his grasp of her arm. "Agent Keen, perhaps we should just wait until they come out."

"Good idea."

They waited at the foot of the staircase, with Liz keeping her eyes steadfast upon the ominously closed door of Cooper's office. Not a sound was heard, but each passing moment brought a deeper realization that…Ressler was here. He was alive…and he was here, within her grasp.

After an hour or so, the door finally opened. Aram scurried away instantly, leaving her alone to greet the men who filed out of the office. Reddington came out first…followed by Ressler. He was wearing the same flannel shirt that she'd last seen him in. And Aram was right…Ressler looked as though he could use a shower and a good scrubbing. But he was alright…his blond hair was a mess, his face looked gaunt, and his shirt was a dirt mop…but he was alright. He descended the stairs with a flighty strong gait, as if it was just another day at the black site…as if the whole past year had not happened.

Their eyes met as soon as Liz was in his view, but he kept his steps even behind Reddington. Liz eyed the older man, and had expected to exchange words with him, but Reddington merely looked at her way before walking away to…who knows where. She stared at the back of his fedora, until the familiar voice…the voice of her dreams…was heard.

"Hey."

She turned to find Ressler, standing before her. His blue eyes drooped slightly, most likely due to exhaustion, but his eyes were bright and alert nonetheless. She suddenly felt tense and bashful, "Hey, Ress."

"Liz, we, umm…we need to talk." His eyes flickered quickly to an agent standing by the elevator, "But they're haulin' my ass to the hospital right now."

"Why?"

"Physical exam. Doctor Cooper's orders. But I'm fine, I don't need it."

"It's a standard procedure, but also a good idea."

"Yeah, well, it's a waste of time. I just need a good shower."

"Yes, that, you definitely need."

Ressler nodded his head in agreement, then threw a wary glance, "So…is this the part where you kill me…for lying to you?"

"That could wait until after your clean bill of health."

Ressler laughed quietly and contently as he shook his head, and Liz smiled at him in return. She took in the sight of him and the nearness of his breath…and felt all of the tension, of the toil and the anguish that had captured and engulfed her heart, finally start to fade away. She exhaled in heart's relief…and love's embrace.

"Look, Liz, I gotta go…but I'll call you. Later, or whenever I'm done with this rubbish."

"OK."

And after a last glance at her face, Ressler walked toward the agent who was waiting for him by the elevator. Liz was content to let him go, and watched his easy saunter. After the doctor's exam, and a shower…then a haircut was in order, that was for sure.

"Be careful, Lizzie…Donald is bound to get a hole in the back of his head from that laser-sharp focus of yours."

She turned to find Reddington standing next to her, "Red…"

"I got him out three days earlier than planned. Satisfied?"

"Yes, very. It means a world to me. Thank you."

"He did good work out there. But his return was long overdue, as you say."

Liz took a tentative step closer to Reddington, "How did you do it? How did you…"

"I'm surprised at your question. Don't you know I have a distinct monopoly on all criminals...starting with all the small hick-town idiots. There isn't anyone I can't find in that web of bumbling fools."

"Red…"

"Let's just say, I have my resources."

"And does he know…it was you?"

"No."

"Good," Liz managed a restrained smile, "Let's just keep this between us. And Red…thank you again. I mean that."

"Yes, well, I still believe in romance...at least the fatalist aspect of it."

. . . . . . .

She would be lying if she said she wasn't waiting by the phone…because she was. Ressler had left the black site in the early afternoon, and now by late evening, he had yet to call her. Waiting for his call was beyond bearable, and she was helplessly distracted all day with the thoughts of his whereabouts. Even Cooper had noticed her wandering mind, and had looked upon her with a sly disapproval. Aram had also asked her if she was alright…and of course, she was alright. She was an absolute wreck, like some foolish school girl waiting upon a boy…but other than that, she was positively alright.

It was close to ten o'clock when she finally decided to leave for home. Perhaps Ressler was called to another office…or…or somewhere else, to do…something else. Cooper appeared by her office door, and chided her to go home. Then and there, she accepted that her time at the black site was done for the day.

As soon as she got home, she headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. As the hours went by without a stir, Liz had to accept that Ressler was not going to call. He must be busy…of course, he was. He had been essentially absent from his life for the past year…of course, he was busy with duties and responsibilities that he had neglected. And she was certain he had countless meetings with the superiors regarding the mission…on top of unending reports and such that needed to be officially filed. It'd be rather selfish of her to expect, or demand, that Ressler afford her some time…especially seeing that there wasn't anything urgent to address. It's just that…she would've liked to hear his voice…or if she truly pressed her luck, to see him.

Liz changed into her grey sweats, and sauntered into her kitchen to scrounge for dinner, or anything that would resemble it. As expected, there was nothing to eat, so she settled for hot tea instead. Then, with a startle, a loud thud upon her door rang out through the stillness of her apartment. Someone was knocking on the door, and instantly she was on her toes with suspicion and prowess. She walked nimbly to the door, and peeked through the peep hole. And she gasped and her eyes widened at the sight of the figure patiently waiting for her from behind the door. It was Ressler.

She opened the door quietly, "Ress…"

"I know it's late…but can I come in?"

. . . . . . . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading this story! I'm truly flattered by your support. And Keenler…yup, Keenler. Ship it, because it's sailing…**


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